As I was driving Zoey to Kindergarten this afternoon, I heard this story on the radio. I hope this encourages you in whatever "race" you are currently running.
Late on a summer evening in Mexico City in 1968, a single runner came hobbling into the stadium where the Olympic Track and Field events were being held. He had finished the cross-country portion of his event, and had now come into the stadium where his race finished with a last lap around the track.
The winner of this race had been crowned hours before ... the day's ceremonies were over. Still the determined runner pressed on, one leg bloody and bandaged, for that last lap around the track. The few spectators that remained in the stands applauded his noble efforts.
The runner, who was from Tanzania, was later asked why he continued the race, since it was obvious he could not win. The man seemed a little confused by the question. He softly replied, "My country did not send me 8.000 miles to start the race. They sent me to finish it."