The Race

The following poem...or whatever is it, is one of my absolute favorites.

I found it appropriate for today.

The Race

"Quit! Give up! You're beaten!"

They shout at me and plead.

There's just too much against you  now.

This time you can't succeed!

And as I start to hang my head

In front of failure's face

My downward fall is broken by

The memory of a race.

And hope refills my weakened will

As I recall that scene

For just the thought of that short race

Rejuvenates my being.

A children's race; young boys, young men

How I remember well.

Excitement sure! But also fear

It wasn't hard to tell.

They all lined up so full of hope

Each thought to win that race.

Or tie for first, or if not that

At least take second place.

And fathers watched from off the side,

Each cheering for his son.

And each new boy hoped to show his dad

That he would be the one.

The whistle blew and off they went

Young hearts and hopes afire.

To win and be the hero there

Was each young boy's desire.

And one boy in particular

Whose dad was in the crowd

Was running near the lead and thought, 

My dad will be so proud!

But as they speeded down the field

Across a shallow dip.

The little boy, who thought to win,

Lost his step and slipped.

Trying hard to catch himself

His hands flew out to brace,

And, mid the laughter of the crowd,

He fell flat on his face.

So down he fell, and with him hope.

He couldn't win it now.

Embarrassed, sad, he only wished

To disappear somehow.

But as he fell, his dad stood up

And showed his anxious face

That to the boy so clearly said;

Get up and win the race!

He quickly rose, no damage done.

Behind a bit, that's all

And ran with all his mind and might

To make up for his fall.

So anxious to restore himself 

To catch up and win,

His mind went faster than his legs;

He slipped and fell again.

He wished that he had quit before

with only one disgrace

I'm hopeless as a runner, now

I shouldn't try to race.

But in the laughing crowd he searched

And found his father's face,

That steady look that said again,

Get up and win the race.

So he jumped to try again

Ten yards behind the last

If I'm going to gain those yards, he thought,

I've got to move real fast.

Exerting everything he had,

He regained eight of ten

But trying hard to catch the lead

He slipped and fell again.

Defeated! He lay there silently

A tear dropped from his eye

There's no sense in running anymore.

Three strikes; I'm out. Why try?

The will to rise had disappeared.

All hope had flown away.

So far behind; so error prone-

A loser all the way.

I've lost, so what's the use, he thought.

I'll live with my disgrace.

But then he thought about his dad,

whom soon he'd have to face.

Get up an echo sounded low,

Get up and take your place.

You were not meant for failure here,

Get up and win the race.

With borrowed will, get up, it said.

You haven't lost at all.

For winning is no more than this:

To rise each time you fall.

So up he rose to run once more

And, with a new commit,

He resolved that win or lose

At least he wouldn't quit.

So far behind the others now,

The most he'd ever been,

Still he gave it all he had;

He ran as though to win.

Three times he'd fallen, stumbling,

Three time he rose again.

Too far behind to hope to win,

He still ran it to the end.

They cheered the winning runner

As he crossed the line first place,

Head high, and proud, and happy-

No falling; no disgrace.

But when the youngster

Crossed the line last place,

The crowd gave him the greater cheer

For finishing the race.

And even though he came in last

With head bowed low, unproud,

You would have thought he won the race,

To listen to the crowd.

And to his dad he sadly said,

I didn't do so well.

To me, you won, his father said.

You rose each time you fell.

And now when things seem dark and hard

And difficult to face,

The memory of that little boy

Helps me win my race.

For all of life is like that race,

With ups and downs and all,

And all you have to do to win

Is rise each time you fall.

"Quit! Give up! You're beaten!"

They still shout in my face.

But another voice within me says

Get up and win the race!

-Delbert L. Groberg

--------------------

Song of the Day

Already Gone by The Eagles