Our first family dog was a small Border terrier with a grizzle-and-tan coat and fiercely intelligent eyes. We named him Max. And just dare to play tug-of-war with him. Max loved tug-of-war. With resolute determination he'd lock down on one end of the rope, shaking and jerking it back and forth while emitting a continuous, deep, bring-it-on growl.

Max (like most small dogs) had no concept of quit. He wanted to keep playing tug long after your arms tired. Often, our whole family would take turns trying to wear him down, but without fail, Max would outlast us all. Sometimes in the battle we would lift the rope till his back paws left the ground-the weight of his whole body free-hanging in mid-air!

But Max would still show no sign of giving in. He just kept that consistent, teasing growl, while shaking his tail in pure pleasure. He was a persistent little guy.

Have you ever noticed that some people seem to succeed at everything they try? They have successful careers; they have great friendships and strong families; they are involved meaningfully in church or community activities; and they can stay in great shape physically. Then there are others who seem to falter at almost everything they do. Why?

When you get close to successful people in order to discover how they manage to fulfill so much of their potential-you find they are people who understand commitment, persistence, tenacity, and courage-they are people who love to play tug-of-war and who refuse to quit. Contrariwise, when you examine those who have an embarrassing string of setbacks and personal failures, you discover they often start out strong down some path or endeavor, but somewhere along the way they "let things slide." They are quitters.

They'll say things like, "I intended to do well in that class, but I put off doing my homework." "I just couldn't follow through with my leads." "I got too distracted and didn't spend time with my family." "I wanted to work out, but so many things popped up on the days I planned to go to the gym." And somewhere in the back of their minds they believed that intending to do things was sort of like doing them. But it wasn't. Intention alone never wins the day. Bottom line: they let go of the tug.

The good news is you can always pick it back up again and get in the game. But to win you need to learn to last. You need to learn how to endure.

Endurance refuses to cash it in-it pushes past quitting points. The problem is we live in an instantaneous culture and we have come to expect things instantly. We like fast diets, overnight fame, rapid fitness, and a dash to success that's only hundred-yards. If we don't experience what we want in a reasonable amount of time-like, say a week or two-we think something is wrong. Those of us over fifty were once called the "now generation." We were pretty well known for how easy it was for us to quit things before the rewards showed up-jobs, educational paths, relationships, pretty much anything complex. Why? It couldn't be had now so we lost interest. Sadly, the generations that follow us expect no less.

LIFE IS A MARATHON
Sprints and marathons are two distinctly different kinds of races. In a sprint, one of the most critical elements is the start. Runners practice for hours on end getting into those little blocks and busting out the very nano-second the gun goes off. Why? Because if you falter in the start you don't stand a chance of winning the race.

On the other hand, the starts of marathons are not that important at all. Most are just standing around waiting for the gun to go off. Truth is, you could fall down, have three guys run over you, get up and still win the race. It's not the start that is so important; it's how good you are at endurance.

Today, many believe success in life is the result of a sprint, that the start is what is critical. In a recent season of the wildly popular TV series American Idol, a contestant from Minneapolis had his eyes on the prize of becoming the next "Idol," with all its glitz, glamour, and appropriate idol-worship. After being rejected by the judges from advancing in the competition, he stormed out of the room. With angry tears streaming down his cheeks, he blurted one or two expletives at Simon Cowell and the other judges and exclaimed to the camera, "I'm already sixteen, and I wanted to start out successful." He wanted to "start out" successful-not work toward it. He just couldn't understand why the judges would dare end what he had dreamed of doing. How could those #@!$@!% judges throw a roadblock in front of his right to idol status?

Truth be told, there's a lot of "you-owe-me-what-I-want-'cause-I'm-so-awesome-and-I-want-it" people out there. There is a steady increase in people who feel they have the right to whatever they want in our culture. They aren't satisfied with the Declaration of Independence's bestowed right to the "pursuit of Happiness"; they think happiness is their right straight off-no pursuit necessary. Of course, happiness is not connected to anything so boring and marathon-ish as patience, determination, persistence, courage, fearlessness, steadfastness, and loyalty-many think those things died along with the Leave it to Beaver and Andy Griffith series.

You don't do marathons quickly. You have to spread out your energy over time. Endurance is what empowers a person over the long haul. It makes you crash through your quitting-points. It reinterprets brick walls as paper-mâché walls with brick patterns. With endurance you can push through old familiar conflict zones for the ten-thousandth time without giving up-in that annoying Energizer-bunny fashion, you just keep going and going and going...that's what wins the day.