Running Free

In 1924, Scottish sprinter Eric Liddell arrived in Paris as one of Britain's greatest Olympic hopes. The 100 meters was his race — the one the nation expected him to win. But when he discovered the heats were scheduled for a Sunday, he withdrew without hesitation. His faith would not permit it.

The pressure was immense. Teammates urged him to reconsider. Officials appealed to his patriotism. Senior British leaders weighed in personally. The world saw a man throwing away his moment. Liddell saw something different entirely.

He trained for the 400 meters — a longer race, not his specialty — and that summer in Paris he ran it and won gold, setting a world record of 47.6 seconds. Those who had questioned his decision watched him cross the finish line with his head thrown back and arms pumping, running like a man completely untethered.

What the world called sacrifice, Liddell called freedom. He was not enslaved to national expectation, public pressure, or the hunger for applause. He knew who he was and Whose he was — and that knowledge liberated him to run with everything he had.