When I ran cross country, our training involved running Monday through Friday and, occasionally, optional Saturday runs. We did “easy” days, long-distance days, sprint days (the worst), and more, all to make sure that we were in the best shape possible for our 5k race — a little over three miles — which occurred seven to eight times throughout the season.

I wasn’t a stranger to intense preparation in other pursuits, either. I poured myself into theatre, gymnastics, dance, and all-star competitive cheerleading. Each demanded weeks — months — of rigorous practice. And yet, even with all that discipline and training, I’d never have dared claim I was ready for something like a marathon. Why? Because a marathon is a beast of its own.

A theatre performance might command the stage for a couple of hours. A 5k, for me at least, took about 25 minutes. A cheer routine was intense, to be sure, but it was over in three and a half minutes. A marathon? For the average runner, it’s four to five taxing hours. For beginners, it could stretch to seven plus hours — if you make it to the finish line at all. Even elite runners, clocking in under three hours, often collapse across the finish, legs wobbling, bodies spent, having poured every ounce of themselves into those 26.2 miles.

Marathoners don’t succeed by training sporadically. In fact, ask any professional athlete: greatness that lasts demands consistent, grueling effort, especially when motivation wanes. Health is also equally critical — nutrition, rest, and recovery are non-negotiable. Without them, even the best training falls short. But the point is, excellence demands unwavering discipline, and preparation is never taken lightly or easily dismissed.

Now, this brings me to a deeper truth: our walk with God, dear reader, is no sprint or short routine. It’s a marathon — and more. It’s a lifelong journey stretching into eternity, demanding unwavering dedication, resilience, and holistic wellbeing — physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual. Just as a marathoner trains with purpose, we must approach our faith with disciplined commitment, prioritizing spiritual vitality to sustain us through life’s trials. The race of faith isn’t won in fleeting moments of effort but through a lifetime of steadfast pursuit.

Does that seem obvious? Maybe. So, why am I bringing it up? My concern is that, as obvious as it may seem, many of us neglect adopting this sort of mindset. And the result? Our spiritual endurance fades and our muscles of faith atrophy. And it’s right to view our faith journey as a race, because that’s exactly how the Bible presents it.

Consider Hebrews 12:1-2: “Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God.” Even more poignantly, 2 Timothy 4:7 states the mantra we should all seek to cry out: “I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.”

What happens when we don’t understand the demands of the Christian race is that we become easily jaded. We either a) allow ourselves to neglect spiritual practices such as consistent prayer, Bible reading, and godly fellowship, or b) we are shocked by how difficult this race can be and often is. Pastor Burk Parsons once said, “Those who say ‘If you become a Christian, all your troubles will be over’ have no clue what true Christianity is. It’s only when we become Christians that the real war begins.”

Parsons speaks truth. Embracing Christ is the most glorious, transformative decision one can make, a moment when the shadow of eternal damnation is forever banished by the light of grace. Yet, conversion is not an escape from struggle — it’s the starting gun of a cosmic battle. As new creations, we are thrust into warfare against the world’s hostility and the sin that lingers within us. This fight is fierce, unyielding, and often exhausting. Thankfully, for our sake, the Bible does not shy away from this reality.

John 15:18-20, for example, explains how the world will hate us because it hates Christ. 2 Timothy 3:12 warns that “all who desire to live a godly life in Christ Jesus will be persecuted.” And then there’s the inner struggle — the ceaseless pursuit of righteousness while fleeing the enticing call of sin and temptation. Yet, despite the weight of these trials, the race of faith remains radiant, rich, and infinitely worth every step taken for Christ and His Kingdom.

Theologians and pastors throughout the centuries have captured this truth with breathtaking clarity. William Perkins, for example, captured it vividly: “The Christian must run the race of godliness with patience, looking unto Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith, who for the joy that was set before Him endured the cross.” Like a marathoner fixing their gaze on the finish line, we must keep our eyes on Christ, the pioneer and perfecter of our race, who endured the ultimate trial to secure our victory.

Thomas Manton, echoing this, put it well when he said, “The life of faith is a race to be run, and the prize is not given to those that start well, but to those that finish well, holding fast their confidence unto the end.” A strong start in faith is not enough; like a marathon, it’s the steady, faithful steps over the long haul that lead to the crown. And I really love how John Bunyan put it: “He that rides to be crowned, will not think much of a rainy day.”

If we treat our faith like a sprint, we’ll collapse in exhaustion after a short burst, stunned to find miles still stretching before us. Worse, we might gaze at the daunting distance and surrender in despair. When persecution arrives — and it will, in some form or another — we must ask ourselves: Are we equipped to endure? Or will we unravel under pressure? If you want to be able to stand firm, then you better prepare.

Fill your lips with prayer and praise. Write Scripture on your heart. Be defined as the body of Christ, using your hands and feet to share His good news, feed and clothe the needy, and be beacons of light in a world trapped in darkness. Never let a single day pass where you grow complacent, forgetting the fierce effort this sacred race demands. Above all, let no moment slip away without meditating on your Lord and Savior — His boundless love, His unyielding promises, and the eternal glory awaiting those who run faithfully in His name. After all, He is the one who sustains us to finish this race.

A runner races to receive the prize. But the Christian? We run because we love our Savior. We run because we’re forever indebted to His goodness. And so, we run because, one day, we will be face-to-face with our Creator. He will personally wipe away our tears, and when we are ready to stumble across the finish line, He will be there to embrace us. We run, because when the race is finished, we will hear: “Well done, good and faithful servant.”

The race of faith demands our all — heart, soul, mind, and strength. But oh, the prize! An eternal crown, a place at the King’s table, a joy that outshines every trial. So, dear reader, lace up your spiritual shoes, fix your eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of your faith, and run with unwavering endurance. The finish line gleams on the horizon, and a great cloud of witnesses cheers you onward. Run well. Run true. The King awaits.