Being one of us

Being “one of us” is a powerful
thing. We are all stronger because of the communities we belong to.

This morning our family engaged in
one of our semi-annual Thanksgiving traditions – we joined 37,000 other runners
and walkers for the 42^nd annual Dallas YMCA Turkey Trot 8-mile and
5K races. It was a great morning; just cool enough stay comfortable in winter
running gear, but warm enough to be pleasant and friendly. It was great to be a
part of such a large tribe of people, to be one of us with all of them. How
often can so many people get together with no fighting and everyone friendly to
each other? The only reason there were police on the scene was to protect us
from traffic, not from each other. There was energy hanging in the air from so
many people with shared goals. It was contagious. We were all wearing the
proper tribal colors (race T-shirts, high-tech fabrics, running shoes), and we
all had fun.

That many people won’t fit in the
small space of a street on one city block. The pack of runners waiting to start
spilled over onto all the sidewalks and side streets and stretched a long way
from the starting line. And a group that size won’t move very quickly, even
after the starting horn sounds. It always takes a long time before everyone is
up to speed; the crowd uncoils like a big slinky. I got closer to the starting
line this year than ever before, which meant I started moving (shuffling) only
two minutes after the horn went off. Usually it takes 8 to 10 minutes before I
start moving my feet.

About a half-mile into the race I
found myself trapped behind three double-sized baby strollers being pushed
side-by-side, the pushers talking and gossiping and giggling like old friends,
all six kids nestled into their blankets. They created a barrier across the
road of about 15 feet, leaving a huge wad of runners dammed up behind them
trying to find a way around. But that sort of thing is what you should expect
in a family event so huge.

By the time I hit mile two, I
finally passed my last group of walkers – I don’t mean runners who occasionally
walk, but people who never intended to run at all. They were easy to identify
by their huge fleece jackets and blue jeans. It took me two miles to catch up
them, meaning they must have lined up very near the starting line to be so far
ahead of me. I got into place about 20 minutes before the race start; they must
have lined up an hour before.

As I settled into my pace for eight
miles, I thought about how running has become such a family marker for us. And
this particular race has been part of our Thanksgiving tradition for ten years.

Running together is something that
has become so important and identifiable with us, yet it started off in our
group back in 1978 with me trying to impress a girl. I thought I had to do
something athletic to win her attention and I choose running because it had the
least skill requirements for a beginner. I was never any good as a runner but I
just kept stumbling along. Who knew Cyndi would eventually join me? Who knew
Byron and Katie would join in? Who knew Katie would marry an athlete and drag
him into our running tribe?

Our beginning with running was
fragile and tenuous to start with, but over time it became a fundamental part
of our story. And it is our shared stories that make us a tribe, that make us …
one of us.

This single activity sets us apart
from most of the world but joins us with the thousands of families we ran with
this morning. Why did we stick to it? How did it become so important? Who
knows?

How often the defining markers of
our tribes, the activities and attitudes that link us together, that bind us
together, are so fragile and thin. Community can be very subtle. We had a lot
of things in common with 37,000 people today, even more things not in common,
yet I might feel more a part of that group even without knowing anyone else’s
name than I might feel with some family members that I’ve known for decades.

The older I get the more I value the
communities I belong to. Maybe its because my family has grown, and grown up,
so its been more important for us to get together. Maybe its because I’m
finally convinced I cannot do it all myself – or I can’t do it well all by
myself – or I no longer want to do it myself. Or maybe I’ve finally listened to
the advice of friends who understood the value of community for their entire
lives.

Community has to be guarded and
cherished. Our tribe is held together only by a few things, but they have
become strong things. I am looking forward to more.

“I run in the path of Your
commands, for You have set my heart free.” Psalm 119:32

To learn more about Berry’s newest book, “Running
With God:” http://www.runningwithgodonline.com/

To follow Berry on Twitter …
@berrysimpson