Run the Race God Has Put You In

By Lang Wedemeyer, Liberty University Women’s Soccer Coach

“Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. For the joy set before Him He endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.”
— Hebrews 12:1–2

One of my passions outside of soccer is running. When I hung up my cleats after years of youth, college, and pro soccer, I still had the itch to compete, and racing gave me an avenue to challenge myself. It started with 5Ks and 10Ks but quickly advanced into half and full marathons, triathlons, obstacle course races, and now ultras.

There’s an electrifying feeling when you step up to the starting line of a race, scanning those jittery runners to your right and left, all hopping up and down, waiting for the starting pistol to go off. As I scan the crowd and size up the competition, a multitude of questions scroll through my mind:
Who are the top runners? How many guys in my age bracket do I need to beat to finish in the top 3? Who might I draft off of?

As the runners jostle for position at the start, adrenaline is pumping—pushing you to run a little faster to edge out the person in front, to avoid getting boxed in by slower runners, or to reach the single track before the crowd. Depending on the length of the race, those early thoughts shift to nutrition, hydration, form, breathing, managing the course, pacing, and a dozen other factors.

But one thing never changes: evaluating the runners around you.
How’s their pace? Should I pass? Will they catch me later?
When someone passes you, there’s a strong temptation to match their speed. Runners often think:
“How did that guy pass me?” “I must be going too slow.” “How is she crushing this section?”
If you push too hard, you burn the fuel you need to finish. If you dwell on being passed, you’ll demoralize yourself quickly.

Many long races have cut-off times at aid stations—you must reach them by a certain time or you’re pulled from the race. In one of my recent ultras (52 miles total), I reached the third-to-last aid station with about 25 minutes to spare. When I asked the attendant about the next cut-off, he told me it was at 4:44 p.m.

I knew I’d be cutting it close, so I started running harder. Anyone who’s done an ultra through the Blue Ridge Mountains knows: it’s a suffer-fest. After more than 30 miles, I was deep in the pain cave. I realized I wasn’t going to make it. Thoughts of failure flooded my mind. I imagined the attendant pulling my bib, and shame began to build. I seriously considered quitting and walking the rest of the way.

Other runners passed me, and the voice of comparison screamed louder. But then I had a moment of clarity—an epiphany:
God wasn’t calling me to finish first. He was calling me to run the best race I could.
Not to compare.
Not to impress.
Not to chase ego or medals that one day end up in the trash.

He was calling me to honor Him with what I had—to offer up my suffering, to run my race for His glory.

So I picked up my pace and gave everything I had left to reach the next aid station—fully expecting it to be the end of my race. I arrived at 5:15, completely spent. The attendant smiled and said, “Good job! Finish strong!”

Confused, I gasped, “I thought the cut-off was 4:44?”
He replied, “No, it’s 5:44!”

Exhausted but filled with hope, I gathered myself, prayed a little harder, and set out to finish the last 8 miles—knowing it was not my strength that got me there, but the Holy Spirit inside me, carrying me through to the end.

On any given day, we face the temptation of comparison. It’s easy to spiral into envy, insecurity, or needing external validation. Social media, success stories, and even well-meaning praise can become dangerous if we let them define us.

But God hasn’t called you to run their race. He’s called you to run yours.

Like Ryan Hall, Olympic runner and Christ-follower, once said:

“Having a heart goal always reassured me whenever I toed the starting line. I didn’t know how fast I would run or where I would finish, but I knew I could run with a right heart. And if I did that, my performance would be pleasing to both God and me.”

Coaches, athletes, leaders—wherever you are today:
You may be in a difficult season. You might be wrestling with player issues, parent expectations, job stress, or even questioning your purpose. But remember this:

God placed you in this moment, this position, this race—for a reason.

So let’s give Him back our whole hearts. Let’s run with perseverance the race marked out for us.
Not someone else’s race. Yours.

Reflect:

• What difficult circumstances in your current position might God be calling you to navigate?
• How can you become more aware of when you’re slipping into comparison, envy, or discouragement—and what can you do to combat it?
• How can you give your full heart to run your race in a way that honors God?