In our home sits a large oak and
cedar chest. Within it, I store all the gifts and mementos from my missionary
service in Chile. Each item represents and catalogues a personal and spiritual
experience that helped define the most formative years of my life. Among the
most prized of these possessions I count a small brass bell. This simple bell
was a gift from my mission president. Its value is not tied up in its design
nor its composition. The bell’s appearance is ordinary and its craftsmanship
leaves much to be desired. But the value of this gift extends far beyond
tangible measurements. The value comes from the lesson which accompanied the
gift. It is the lesson of the bell lap.
The lap
bell is a tradition unique to middle and long-track racing events. The lap bell
functions as a key element in a runner’s strategy and overall success. You see,
a runner’s success on the track depends on a lot more than their physical
prowess or athletic ability. The best professional runners possess a more subtle
skill, albeit a crucial one, that gives them a competitive advantage. These
runners are experts at processing audible cues and responding to those cues
with precision and aggression. Each sound, from the crack of the starting gun
to the roar of the crowd, provides an important signal to the runner. But of
all the audible signals available to the runner, perhaps none is as important
as the lap bell.
The lap
bell sounds once the leading runner enters into the final lap, known as the
bell lap. The ominous timbre of the bell initiates an abrupt change to the
runner’s strategy. Upon hearing the bell’s reverberate tone, a successful
runner receives the cue to push harder, to stretch further, and dig deeper.
When you factor in the mental and physical exertion required for the prior
laps, the bell lap can be a huge challenge. But unless a runner leaves every
ounce of effort on the track, they will risk losing ground. Fractional seconds
separate the victorious from the defeated, and fractional efforts determine
which runner’s will emerge as champions. Championship runners know that glory
and satisfaction belong to competitors who conquer the bell lap.
In the final weeks of my mission, my president
gave me my own personal lap bell as a constant reminder to work a little harder
and be a little better. I carried that bell in my pocket every day until the
very end. Whenever my thoughts began to wander or lose focus, the muffled ring
of the bell brought me back to an awareness of my predicament and my purpose.
My mission had a guaranteed end. However, there was no guarantee that it would
end well. That outcome had to be earned through effort and persistence. That
outcome had to be earned on the bell lap.
This
life consists of a series of formative sprints and marathons. As we conclude
each successive stage, we have to toil through some of life’s most pivotal and
defining moments. Such moments may amount to a concluding basketball season, a
final semester of school, or a fast-approaching end to a mission. In more sober
circumstances, such moments may be experienced in the face or terminal illness
or aged limitation. Each of these moments is an opportunity to realize our
potential and improve our happiness. However, that outcome depends entirely on our
willingness to exert our last bit of effort, our final shred of optimism, and
our ultimate scrap of grit.
While some do rise to the occasion,
a great many fail to conquer the bell lap. So what separates the contenders
from the pretenders? Both exhaust the same energy. Both face the same temptations.
Both even cover the same distance. Indeed, a casual analysis reveals very few
differences between the two types. But the difference lies in which cues are received
and followed. The champion follows the cues from the lap bell. The underachiever
ignores the bell, ultimately following the promptings to shorten their stride
and abandon their hope.
“I am tired”
“I’ve already done enough”
“It won’t make that much difference”
“C’s get degrees”
“It’s just one time”
“Close enough”
“It won’t matter in the end”
These attitudes only offer fictitious satisfaction and stunted
potential. Once you let weariness and despondency determine your bell lap strategy,
you have already condemned yourself. You have left no room for hope, no room
for miracles, and no room for fulfillment. You will finish your lap. The race
will end. But the only prize you will come away with is the grim understanding
that the pain of regret stings far worse than the pain of effort.
Now
contrast that situation with the condition of those who stubbornly persist until
the final stride. Do they feel pain? Ache? Fatigue? Of course they do. In fact,
their persistence undoubtedly magnifies their temporary discomfort. However, their
tireless perseverance secures the blessings and honors available to the conquerors
of the bell lap. Not only do they enjoy a heightened sense of pride and
satisfaction, but they also uncover a once dormant confidence and faith. Soon the
temporal aches fade, being replaced altogether with the emotional and spiritual
sensations of individual accomplishment and gratification.
The individual blessings of enduring
to the end are substantial. But remember that a runner does not only race for
personal gain. On the track, athletes wear uniforms bearing the colors and symbols
of their kin and country. When they win, their nation wins. When they lose, their
nation loses too.
Likewise, our personal persistence
on the bell lap benefits the lives of others. You may not realize it, but
others are watching. They may be friends, associates, and even family members. They too are hoping and praying for your example. They
want to see your triumph, because it will inspire them to do the same. They want
to observe your character, because it will help them develop their own. They
want to witness your bell lap, because it will exemplify their own challenges.
People need to know that even though victory may seem beyond reach,
perseverance always leaves the door open to miraculous outcomes. Your example
can accomplish that.
Success
on the bell lap depends entirely on your willingness to exert your last bit of
effort, your final shred of optimism, and your ultimate scrap of grit. Remember
the wisdom of President Abraham Lincoln when he said, “I do the very best I
know how, the very best I can, and I mean to keep doing so until the end.”
