The Woman Who Wouldn't Leave the Road

In April 1967, twenty-year-old Kathrine Switzer pinned bib number 261 to her sweatshirt and lined up at the start of the Boston Marathon. No woman had ever officially entered the race. She had registered as "K.V. Switzer," and nobody questioned it — until mile four.

That's when race official Jock Semple spotted her, sprinted from the press vehicle, grabbed at her shoulder, and screamed, "Get out of my race!" He clawed at her bib number, trying to rip it off. In that moment, everything in Kathrine wanted to stop, to shrink back, to leave the road. But her training partner, a 235-pound hammer thrower named Tom Miller, threw a shoulder block that sent Semple sprawling. And Kathrine kept running. Four hours and twenty minutes later, she crossed the finish line.

Here's what strikes me about that story. Kathrine had every right to be on that road. But having the right and living in the freedom of it were two very different things. Someone had to clear the obstacle so she could keep moving.

Paul writes in Galatians 5:1, "It is for freedom that Christ has set us free. Stand firm, then, and do not let yourselves be burdened again by a yoke of slavery." Christ has already cleared the road. The accuser lunges at us — with shame, with guilt, with old identities — trying to tear away what God has given. But the Savior has already thrown the block. Our job is to keep running. The finish line is real, and no one can pull you off that course.