This morning, somewhere around mile three of my run, I found myself back in an economics classroom.
Funny how that happens.
When you’re running, your feet are busy, your breathing settles into a rhythm, and your mind begins wandering through places you haven’t visited in years.
I remembered one of the first lessons I ever learned in economics: supply and demand.
The teacher drew a picture on the board. There was a basket of apples. The apples represented the supply. The people wanting apples represented the demand. If there were only a few apples and many buyers, the price went up. If there were plenty of apples and few buyers, the price came down.
Simple enough.
For years, that’s how I thought life worked.
There is only so much money. Only so much energy. Only so much opportunity. Only so much time. Only so much success to go around.
The supply was fixed.
Then, while I was running this morning, another thought crossed my mind.
What if I’ve been looking at it backward all these years?
What if life isn’t limited nearly as much by the supply as it is by the demand we place upon it?
By mile three, I was beginning to feel tired.
A familiar voice whispered, “That’s enough for today.”
Fortunately, another voice answered.
“Keep going.”
One more block became another.
Then another.
Before long, the three-mile run I thought I had in me quietly became five.
Nothing magical happened.
No energy drink suddenly appeared.
No miracle occurred.
Instead, I discovered something I’ve experienced many times before but hadn’t fully appreciated.
There was more available than I first believed.
Running has taught me that lesson again and again.
I’ve trained for marathons where the longest practice run was only twenty or twenty-two miles.
Race day still required 26.2 miles.
Somewhere after mile twenty comes what runners call “the wall.”
Your body wants to quit.
Your mind begins negotiating.
Every step feels like the last one.
Yet thousands of runners discover they still have another six miles waiting inside them.
Not because those miles suddenly appeared.
They were there all along.
They simply weren’t called upon until the demand required them.
The more I thought about it, the more I began seeing this principle everywhere.
Communities somehow find resources after disasters.
Families discover remarkable strength when caring for a sick loved one.
Volunteers give time they didn’t think they had.
Parents somehow keep going after sleepless nights.
History is filled with ordinary people accomplishing extraordinary things because life suddenly demanded more of them.
Perhaps we underestimate ourselves because we only ask ordinary things of ourselves.
Maybe we stop at three miles when we could have run five.
Maybe we settle for comfortable when we were designed for meaningful.
I’ve also noticed another truth.
The more I give, the more capable I become of giving.
Kindness grows when it’s shared.
Generosity creates more generosity.
Courage expands every time we use it.
The heart seems to make room for whatever we choose to pour out.
I still believe supply and demand is an important economic principle.
But I now wonder if it’s also a principle for living.
Perhaps much of what we need is already waiting.
Not necessarily unlimited.
But greater than we imagine.
Waiting for us to ask.
Waiting for us to believe.
Waiting for us to take one more step.
This morning’s run reminded me that life often gives us more after we stop asking, “How much do I have?” and begin asking, “How much am I willing to demand of myself?”
Three miles taught me I was tired.
Five miles reminded me who I could become.
A Question to Consider
What challenge could you push past today if you stopped asking how much you have and started asking how much you’re willing to demand of yourself?