In memory of Bill Adams, Oct. 8 1956-Aug. 12, 2026, a U.S. Track and Field Federation All-American for 10,000 Meters. The poem is best viewed on desktop or phone turned to landscape.
It’s been dark in here a while.
I sit and wait. Stare and wait. Sleep and wait.
Alone but not lonely in the fog
For someone always whispers my name
But today an air horn from some distant bleacher blasts.
Then a voice in my ear.
“Bill, you’re up.
It’s the 10,000.
Your race.”
And somehow now I stand.
Laced up, warmed up, lithe
Fresh like an eagle before dawn
Filled with the strength to marathon
The victory message to anxious, waiting towns
In the shadows I hear someone say,
“This walk-on’s welcome.”
Who’s that, a ref, a coach? Or someone new?
I wonder if anyone’s ever told him about J—
“Ready…set…” The lights burst on.
Brighter than a million suns.
Thousand thousands throng the sides
I’m running, running…made for such a time as this…
Time—oh, what’s my time?
No clock to be seen, but I know how this works
Gotta pace myself. Try to run the pole.
Keep my heart fixed on one thing only
One thing.
But who’s that coming down from the skybox,
Wreath of wild olive in his hand?
He looks familiar from here on the back straight
Of the long 10,000
It’s time to pick up the pace
Drop the burdens, cast the weights.
What did they call that thing I came down with?
I can’t recall
I’ve broken through the wall.
The crowd’s so loud I can’t hear myself think
Here and there I see a face I know
And more and more press near me as I go—
Like that guy who read the tract and threw it back
I round the bend
Finish line’s in view
And the one descended standing there
Hands wide open, pierced
Home straight: time to empty the tank
Leave nothing behind
But a living lane for others.
All in. All in. Running, pumping, diving—
I break the tape.
Arms surround my spent frame.
Water pours over and through.
I have no words. I need no words.
For the Word holds me.
And yet I speak the thousand things I’ve thought for years
Into his ear
In a voice like a lion and a lamb
Until he speaks:
“Well done! Well done!
Your Father’s joy!
Angels, saints, and living creatures:
Turn one and all with me!”
And with the vast crowd looking on
I step up on the podium
Awkward in the limelight
Till he puts his glory on my head—and winks
“Let’s go for a run, Bill!
That crown suits you. I made it myself.
Just what you’ll need for where we’re headed
Further up and further in.”
© Kurt Mahler
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That’s Bill. Faithful to the end. I particularly love the image of the wall. It’s when you’ve nearly run your race and seem to have little left. It separates the winners from the losers. It’s when energy and drive you did not know you had kicks in and propels you forward to the end. It’s particularly meaningful for me, an old man nearing the end of his race. It’s a reminder that the race is not over until the tape. (ESV) 1 Cor. 9:27 “But I discipline my body and keep it under control, lest after preaching to others I myself should be disqualified.” Still in the race…
Author
Yes, it is remarkable to me how Bill’s life speaks. May we each size the “one thing” we have been entrusted with as Bill did. Thankful for you,Terry.
Such a beautiful portrait of Bill’s life, so eloquently captured!❤️
What a beautifully worded tribute. Andrea was overwhelmed. She had me make copies of it so she can send them to family and to friends in Russia.
Author
I rejoice, Brenda!