Mongolians love horses and they love horse racing. July is one of the busiest months, with every city, town and village holding its own annual Naadam sporting festival. The Men of the horses who, tradition says, ride before they can walk, eagerly work to ensure that their animals are in tiptop condition.

Jockey and horse train together. The jockeys are boys and girls aged between seven and thirteen. Until recently they rode bareback with no protective clothing, but newly introduced regulations require the rider to use a saddle and wear protective clothing.

Races are long; beating a straight path across the open steppe, they test the stamina, strength and endurance of horse and rider. Training is meticulous and starts with tethering the horse and letting it graze the richest pastureland, although the animal must not gain weight. On the third day, when the sun is warmest, the trainer covers the horse with a felt blanket and leads it up a slope to sweat out all the body’s impurities.

Each day horse and jockey run. At first, they run just a kilometre at a gentle speed. Later, as the horse settles to a regular comfortable rhythm, distance and speed are steadily increased until the horse, lean and fast, strides long, stretching every muscle in his body towards the finish line.

Mongolians love fast horses. Five-year-olds, known as Soyolon, are the fastest, so some regard them as the most heavenly creatures. But every horse, irrespective of age or the race that they compete in, must be a Mongolian thoroughbred.

Manes flowing, tapered heads strain forward as the horses run with the wind. Riders’ cries mingle with hoof-fall that, like giant timpani, shakes the very ground beneath my feet. Goaded and guided, they give their all, reminding me of God’s word to Jeremiah: ‘If you have run with men and they have wearied you, how will you compete with the horses?’

Running in a race is not easy, running with excellence even tougher. The race of life can be difficult, with moments when it feels too hard, and we succumb to the temptation to give up!

Not all of us are fast runners. But each of us is called to run the course marked out for us. To live at our best, relinquishing that which trips us up. Even when the way is hard, we must learn to cast aside our struggles and apprehension, and strain forward to God with a longing for wholeness and hunger for righteousness. ‘Your will, not mine,’ we cry as we allow Him to guide us. His purposes are far more than we think ourselves capable of living.

We toss and turn, even hesitate. Counting the cost, we get into training, knowing that there are no shortcuts to staying the course. We participate in what God has initiated, feeling every fibre of our being tauten. In the noise, mayhem and confusion of the race, we are neither skittish nor cautious, but we run with courage, looking to God, the author and perfector our faith, pursuing Him with a desire for excellence. We run with the horses.

© copyright Gillian Newham 2023