Yesterday afternoon, I took our two youngest boys to their weekly track meet.  8-year-old Ben was scheduled to run the 1/2 mile and his older brother, 10-year-old Sam was scheduled to run the mile.

Mostly, track meets involve waiting.  Lots of waiting.  Then a short burst of activity.  Then more waiting.

In my case, I watched young Ben run his 1/2 mile and then began the wait for older brother Sam’s mile race to begin.

As the gun went off (sounds dramatic, huh), Ben and I watched Sam run off into the distance.  We jogged over to the midway point and prepared to tell Sam his time.  Shouting out his progress, I readied to jog to the finish line.  As I departed, young Ben informed me that he would run beside his older brother for the final leg of the race.

Arriving at the finish line I looked up and there in the distance was Sam preparing to sprint toward the end.  Sure enough, keeping stride with Sam was his younger brother, Ben.  He was keeping up.  Cheering his brother on.  Using what he had left in the tank to help encourage his older sibling.

Sometimes we run for ourselves and there’s a time and a place for that, but life sure does look sweet and the effort seems to be a lot more carefree, when that final burst of energy is going to help someone else reach their goal.

Runners.  Brothers.  Both already winners.