Tag Archives: race

Patience Is a Virtue …

… I never had. I’ve been running for almost a year now, and if there’s one thing I’ve learned (or rather, still learning the hard way), it’s PATIENCE. Because to be honest patience is a virtue I never had.

When I first started, my pace was a painful 14–15 minutes per kilometer. I remember feeling breathless after just a 30second jog, wondering why on earth people would find this enjoyable. Fast forward to today, I ran 15 kilometers along the Han River in Seoul, and my pace? STILL SLOW … a whooping 10 minutes per kilometer. Others who’ve started later than I did are now flying past me like gazelles, and here I am still trudging like a tortoise.

But as I caught my breath near Yeouido Han River, after what was supposed to be a 15-minute walk from my hotel that turned into a one-hour detour, I couldn’t help but laugh. I had literally gone the long way around. What was meant to be a straight route became a scenic but confusing journey. And it hit me … it’s the perfect metaphor for life.

Earlier during my run, I was listening to a podcast on Genesis, about how the Israelites wandered in the wilderness for 40 years. They weren’t lost because God had abandoned them. They were there because God was preparing them. The episode mentioned how “Anah” a word that can means “to afflict” or “to humble” and how sometimes God leads us to our “wilderness” seasons, not to punish us, but to humble us, to prepare us.

As I reflected, these contrasts stood out and spoke deeply to my own journey, both in running and in life.

Oppression or Opportunity
When we face delays or detours, it’s easy to feel oppressed by the weight of unmet expectations, whether it’s in our goals, our careers, or even our personal growth. But maybe what feels like delay is actually divine preparation.

In running, every slow kilometer is a chance for endurance to build quietly beneath the surface. In life, every pause, setback, or unanswered prayer can be God stretching our spiritual lungs, conditioning our faith for longer runs ahead. The Israelites thought they were stuck, but they were being trained to depend on manna, not on their own might. Our “oppressions” may just be disguised opportunities to grow stronger where it matters most … in TRUST.

Trap or Test
When things don’t go our way, it’s tempting to see it as a trap. “Why am I here again? Why is this happening?” But maybe it’s not a trap, rather, it’s a test. Like my long, lost detour to the Han River, what seems like going in circles might actually be God rerouting us to discover who we are becoming in the process. A test isn’t meant to destroy us; it’s meant to reveal us.

In those moments when we feel trapped, by our own pace, our circumstances, or our limits, God might be testing the posture of our hearts. Are we still willing to trust His pace even when it feels painfully slow?

Punishment or Preparation
There’s a fine line between feeling punished and being prepared. Sometimes, slowness feels like punishment in a world obsessed with speed and progress. But in the wilderness of waiting, God is at work. He slows us down to strengthen what can’t be seen. the inner muscles of character, humility, and endurance. Just like every run trains not just my legs but also my will, every “slow season” in life builds unseen strength for future speed. Slowness is the soil where strength quietly grows.

Running has become my wilderness classroom. My pace may be slow, but my heart is learning endurance. God leads us through routes we don’t know, so that He can show what’s in our hearts and so that we can know His plans.

Maybe the point isn’t to get faster, but to get formed.
Maybe the goal isn’t the finish line, but who I become along the way.

So yes!, Patience is a virtue… I never had.
But maybe, through these slow steps and long detours, I’m finally learning it one 10-minute kilometer at a time.

“Remember how the Lord your God led you all the way in the wilderness these forty years, to humble and test you in order to know what was in your heart.” Deuteronomy 8:2 (NIV)

Running The Race. Finishing Strong.

The last time I saw Koyang Zaro (my uncle) alive was in January. We went for a slow jog at the University of the Philippines campus, a place filled with trees, laughter, and movement. Looking back, it feels almost poetic that the last memory I hold of him alive is of us running side by side. He wasn’t just running on that track. He was running the race of life – STEADILY, JOYFULLY and FAITHFULLY.

This week, when we laid him to rest, our family is also gathered earlier at U.P. for a run. The timing felt bittersweet, as if God Himself had set this stage: one race ending, another race beginning. It reminded me that life is indeed like running. Sometimes we run fast and strong, sometimes we slow down, sometimes we stumble and fall. But what matters most is that we get back up, keep moving, and never give up until we reach the finish line.

A Life Well-Lived
Koyang Zaro lived a life that could only be described as full. He stood as a second father to us when our own parents were gone. He filled the gap with laughter, energy, and a steady support at times we needed a wall to lean on. But more than that, he was passionate in his faith. He wasn’t just a man of words; he walked the talk. His faith was active, not passive. He lived it out in the way he served, cared, and loved.

He taught us that living well doesn’t mean being free from struggles, but being anchored in something greater than yourself. His anchor was Christ.

Lessons From the Race
Our first family run became more than just an athletic event, it became a metaphor. Just like in the race, we each move at different paces. Some finish early, some cross the line later, but what matters is that everyone who keeps on going reaches the finish line eventually. Life is no different.

When I think of my uncle, I think of someone who ran his race with perseverance, laughter, and unwavering faith. His finish line came sooner than we hoped, but he finished strong.

The Reflection for Us Who Remain
His passing reminds me of a truth that is both sobering and freeing: our days are numbered. We do not know how long we have, but we do know that each day is a gift. It is not the length of our race that matters, but the way we run it.

For those of us left behind, it is natural to grieve. But alongside the sadness is gratitude. Gratitude for the memories, the love, the lessons, and the life well-lived. My uncle may no longer run beside us physically, but his legacy continues to run in us.

Seize The Day!

The Bible puts it beautifully:

“Teach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom.” – Psalm 90:12

Life is short, but it is also full. And like my uncle, may we choose to live with joy, passion, and faith. May we run our race well, no matter the pace, until the day we too cross the finish line.