When I was in 7th grade, I joined the cross country team at Cooper Junior High School. While there were 15 of us on the team, only the top 7 runners were given the privilege of wearing “spikes” during our meets. These were running shoes with small spikes under the bottoms of the souls for better traction on grass. Before the first meet, we had a team race to determine the order of running strength among our members. I held the distinction of finishing 15th – no “spikes” for me.

During our first meet I ran my little seventh grade tail off, but it just wasn’t enough to win, or place in the top seven from our team, or cross the finish line before any runner from any of the three schools at the meet. I was the last runner to cross the finish line from all 3 schools combined. I didn’t mind being last. I was more upset that I wouldn’t get to wear “spikes” next time either. Our coach made a rule that the top seven finishers from our team during each meet would get to wear “spikes” during the next meet.

After our first meet, I was still ranked 15th on our team. I didn’t need to be first, but I didn’t want to be last either. I just wanted the chance to wear “spikes” for one meet. At our second meet, I made it my goal to finish ahead of at least one of my team mates, and I did. As the season went on, I was dedicated to practice, and gave my all during the meets. I slowly climbed up from the 15th ranked runner all the way to 9th. Unfortunately, we only had one more meet.

As I competed in that last meet, I had two options. My first option was to settle for where I was because I wasn’t going to get to wear “spikes” anyway as this was our last meet. My second option was to run like there would be another meet, and I might have the chance to finally wear “spikes”. I may not always win, and as a runner, I never had, so giving up would have been easier. Instead, I competed in an effort to wear those “spikes”. As the race wore on, I was holding on the best I could. My plan was, if I could see another runner from my team in front of me, I was going to pass them one runner at a time. I had passed lots of my teammates, and runners from the other teams too. I had tried to keep count off my team mates, and in the last 1/4 mile I was 8th on my team. I looked for one more gold jersey, and I finally saw it. I started running as fast as my remaining energy would allow. As we were approaching the Chute (two sets of flag filled ropes that funneled the runners into the home stretch), I burst past one more gold jersey and completed the race as the 7th place runner from our school.

I was thrilled! If we had another meet, I’d finally get to wear those “spikes”. I was also kind of bummed that no one else on my team seemed to really care. After all, we had just completed the last race of the season. No more “spikes”, no more meets, and no more practices. We would enjoy the fall sports banquet, and that would close the door on Cross Country season. My family joined me at the banquet. We had dinner and watched as the top athletes received their awards for outstanding performance, fastest mile, and team captain. I, along with every other first-time athlete, received a letter, a gold “C” on which to place pins for participation in future school activities. Some 8th graders received pins for their participation because they already had a “Letter” from participation in another school sport or activity.

As the last award was being brought to the podium, the coach explained that this was a unique award. It was going to one member of the cross the country team who demonstrated outstanding effort and reminded this team to celebrate victory and grow in defeat. Over the microphone, I heard the coach say, “The award for INSPIRATION goes to…” Then he said my name.

As I walked up to accept my award, all kinds of thoughts were running through my mind. I thought nobody really cared, that no one even noticed, but I was wrong. To this day, I have that trophy on my dresser. There is a gold runner on a wood base. The gold plate on the front simply says “INSPIRATION”. While junior high was decades ago, I keep that trophy dust-free and displayed because, for me, it’s not a childhood memory. Rather, it’s a reminder that people are watching me, even when I don’t realize it. The choices and decisions I make, the way I treat my family and friends, my business behavior, and even how I interact with people I’ve never met before.

Strength isn’t about the physical ability to hoist a trophy over your head in victory. Instead, true strength is about character. Abraham Lincoln said, “Character is like a tree, and reputation like a shadow. The shadow is what we think of it; the tree is the real thing”.

How real are you? I’m not suggesting we value ourselves by what others think of us as that shadow will change over time, I have learned that maintaining one’s character even during difficult or challenging times helps each of us to become who we really are. You may not feel like it sometimes, but we each have opportunities to inspire other people. It’s OK to celebrate when things go well, that doesn’t make you arrogant. It’s also fine to be disappointed when things don’t go well, that doesn’t make you a sore loser. The way we handle life’s successes and challenges requires great strength… of character.