We know them well—athletes who, at first, worked hard and gave the credit to God for their success. But then as success increased, giving God the glory decreased. It happens all the time—the once humble athlete asks for more of the world and less of God. Pride takes over!

King Uzziah was one of these men. Under the spiritual influence of Zechariah, Uzziah sought the Lord and was blessed. But Uzziah started to focus more on himself and less on God. He became powerful quickly and quickly forgot who got him to that point. He became so proud and brash that he entered the temple and tried to do things only the priests were allowed to do.

In the game of baseball, pitcher Mariano Rivera of the New York Yankees is the King of the Hill. He is the sport’s all-time greatest closer with over 600 saves. When Mariano comes out of the bullpen, the game is over. Mariano is a picture of power from the pitcher’s mound.

Having the power to perform well in sports is one thing. Having power for life is something else entirely. In life we have three opponents – the lie of the devil, the lure of our flesh, and the love of the world. (1 John 2:15-17)

Chad was the consummate team player, working harder than everyone else. He was humble and unselfish, and never once did I hear him talk trash to an opponent. I knew there was something different about Chad, but I couldn’t quite figure out what it was.

At age 16 I began to search for the purpose of my existence. Sports were gratifying, but I knew they wouldn’t last forever. Around this time, I learned that the difference between Chad and me was that he had a personal relationship with Jesus that influenced his life on and off the field.

During a vacation trip to the beach this summer I went out for an early morning run. In the distance I caught sight of a young lady running the opposite direction about 20 feet from the shore. As she neared, I noticed she was an experienced runner as evidenced by her performance apparel, sleek figure and toned muscles. She was trudging through the soft “fluffy” white sand with strenuous effort. Her legs were literally bounding off the sand, but due to the inconsistency of the terrain, she was running shockingly slow. She was soaked in sweat, red-faced and labored in breathing. As I continued to run effortlessly on the wet, flat, firmer sand I thought about all the extra effort she was exerting by choosing to run on the distinctly opposite sand.

Growing up, sports were my life. No matter what the season, I had a ball in my hand. When I got to high school, I realized that I had to train with more focus and intensity. I needed to get bigger, stronger, and faster.

Over 95% of an athlete’s time is spent training and less than 5% competing. Training prepares us for game time. We make sacrifices to get better. Tim Tebow says “hard work always beats talent when talent doesn’t work hard.” Some athletes want the results without the work, but that’s not the way it works. Our desire needs to be matched by our do.

About 13 years ago during college I started running as a way of staying in shape. Over the years, I’ve come to love the sport, and because of that, the verse above caught my attention, and I have continued to meditate on it.

I recently read a research article about the physical size of a person’s heart muscle. The research noted that the size of a runner’s heart was measurably larger than the size of an ordinary person’s heart. As the runner trains on a regular basis, the heart begins to pump blood with more volume and with more power, causing the heart muscle to strengthen and increase in size. Doesn’t that sound a lot like Psalm 119:32? I believe this concept can help our hearts grow spiritually as well.

I have been a defensive coordinator for much of my football coaching career and have spent numerous hours studying film. Over time I have changed my approach to studying film. In preparing for the upcoming opponent I used to try to learn everything about them. What plays do they run from each formation? Are they strong oriented? Are they field oriented? What is their ratio of run to pass? First down? Second down? Third and long? Third and short?

Everything in me wanted to be the fast marathoner that my bib number said I was. The big “B” on my bib, which indicated that I had qualified for a fast start corral, got tons of comments from other runners and made me feel pretty special. I even started to believe that my month off from running wouldn’t matter and that I’d be blessed with a 3:30 marathon simply because I’d done it before. Let me explain…