A Hero for the Ages

“… I have finished the race, I have kept the faith” 2 Timothy 4:7

Scarlegs

Back in 1987, I met one of my childhood heroes, Glenn Cunningham: the world’s top middle-distance runner in the 1930s, winner of the Sullivan Award in 1933 as the nation’s top amateur athlete, holder of six world records in the mile and 800 meters, participant in the 1932 Olympics, and silver-medalist in the 1936 Olympics. In his heyday, Glenn was nicknamed the “Kansas Flyer” and the “Iron Horse of Kansas”; and in 1979, he was honored as the greatest track performer in the 100-year history of Madison Square Gardens.

However, it’s not his place in the annals of world-class runners that made Glenn my hero: it’s what led a seven-year-old boy, nicknamed “Scarlegs” by his classmates, to become something far greater than a world record holder or an Olympic medalist.

Glenn’s story

In February 1916, Glenn and his older brother Floyd (plus two other siblings) arrived early at their one room schoolhouse. Floyd began to work on getting a fire started in the large, pot-bellied stove that was used to heat the room. Unknown to the boys, a group of women had used the schoolroom the night before, and the embers of the fire they built were not quite extinguished. They had also left an unmarked can of gasoline next to the stove. So when Floyd added what he thought was kerosene to the kindling, there was an explosion which ignited the boys’ clothes. Floyd later died of his injuries; and Glenn’s legs were burned so badly that the doctor recommended amputation. This upset the seven-year-old so much that he begged his parents not to let that happen.

For the next two years, Glenn was bedridden and fighting infections and debilitating pain as his legs slowly began to heal. He lost all the toes on his left foot and well as chunks of skin and tissue from both legs (since his transverse arch was severely damaged, he developed an unusual “gait” when he ran). Though the danger of dying from infection passed, Glenn was repeatedly told that he would always be an invalid and that he would never walk again, let alone run.

Yet by sheer force of will (and more than a little prodding by his stern father), Glenn began to improve – first leaning to stand, then to walk. One technique he used to retrain his badly burned legs was to walk around the family farm while holding onto the tail of a cow or a mule for support. However, he soon discovered that running hurt his scarred and crooked legs far less than walking – so he began to run instead.

Five years after the accident, Glenn entered his first mile race – unknown to his father who disapproved of such “showing off” – and won, despite his lack of proper running attire or training. In his autobiography, Never Quit, Glenn recounts how little he knew about running competitively: he ducked under the tape at the finish line and had to race back to break the tape in order to be declared the winner!

In high school, Glenn competed in running events despite his father’s objections since it was a school-sponsored activity. By the time he was a senior in high school, Glenn was one of the greatest high school runners in the nation – setting a world record for the interscholastic mile. Then, after graduation, he attended Kansas University, where his coach encouraged him to try out for the 1932 Olympics in Los Angeles after Glenn told him “Someday, I’d like to do something that would let the whole world know how much I love our country.”

Wracked by severe leg pain (which he battled his entire running career due to an undiagnosed problem with abscessed teeth which were poisoning his system), Glenn placed a disappointing fourth in the 1500-meter event – a defeat which “stung” since he had posted faster times than the medalists on a number of occasions.

Then, in 1936, Glenn returned to the Olympic arena, where he won a silver medal in the 1500-meter race. He also roomed with (and developed a life-long friendship with) the star of the Berlin Olympics, the great Jesse Owens. Glenn beat Owens in one contest, however: he was chosen “most popular” by their fellow Olympians during their trans-Atlantic voyage.

Life after running

Glenn continued to run competitively until his retirement in 1940. However, it was what he did off the track that would shape his later life and give it a far greater meaning than the accolades and awards he had received for his ability to run.

Glenn loved kids, and he enjoyed teaching and coaching them whenever possible. He received thousands of letters from his admiring young fans, which he answered personally. In his letters, he encouraged them to “live a disciplined, honest, clean life.” He also told them that, whatever they attempted, they should “never quit.” Both during his running career – and long after it was over – Glenn was a popular motivational speaker.

After serving in the Navy during World War II, Glenn returned to Kansas where he met and married Ruth Sheffield (an earlier marriage had failed). Ruth was, by Glenn’s own admission, a far more “religious” person than himself: while he believed in God, he had never given God any credit for his success. Yet Ruth began to pray that Glenn would find what God wanted Glenn to do with the rest of his life. She told him, “I’m going to pray that God will open up for you a new work that will give your life more meaning.”

Though Glenn had a Ph.D. in Physical Education and though he taught four years at Cornell College in Iowa, a career in academia was not the answer. Instead, because of his great love for helping troubled youth, Glenn and Ruth moved to a 200-acre farm just outside Cedar Point, Kansas. There, they established The Glenn Cunningham Youth Ranch where (in addition to their own 10 children), they took in – at no charge – more than 9,000 kids over the course of their lifetime. (Later, Glenn and Ruth would move to Arkansas and establish Glenhaven Youth Ranch).

At the ranch, kids learned about self-discipline and responsibility (each was assigned an animal to care for when they arrived); but they also received spiritual guidance and training. For along the way, Glenn had slowly learned to be “less dependent on himself and more dependent on God.” Though he had trusted in Christ as a young child, Jesus didn’t become a reality to him until he was older.

His last race

In Never Quit, Glenn tells of a conversation he had with Ruth on the night he received his award from Madison Square Gardens, a conversation in which he expressed his regrets:

“I was too much like my father: a disciplinarian, hard-working, stubborn. And suspicious of churches. What’s wrong about that is that we’ve never good enough on our own. We need that outside influence in our lives. I’ve always been a believer in God, but there were so many times when I could have taken a stand for Him and didn’t, which I could have sought His help and didn’t, to my own loss.”

Ruth answered,

“You’ve lived unselfishly, Glenn, never quitting on any person or difficulty. I prayed a long time ago that the Lord would give you a significant and fulfilled life. He answered that prayer magnificently, and He did it in a double dose, because along the way we both discovered Jesus Christ as the source of every provision in life. How great that we have had the opportunity to learn about Him, about His plan for our lives and of sharing all of that with those youngsters who came our way.”

On March 10, 1988, Glenn Cunningham ran his last race when he passed into the presence of the Lord. He was survived by his wife, Ruth; two children from his first marriage; and 10 children from his marriage to Ruth. The last I heard, all of his and Ruth’s children were involved in Christian ministry – a wonderful testimony to the power of their faith and a life of serving others for His glory.

The rest of the story

I met Glenn for the first and only time in December 1987 when he came to my hometown to give a motivational speech at a local school. That evening, Glenn, Ruth, and half a dozen others shared a meal at a friend’s house. After we had stuffed ourselves on the delicious food, and when everyone was in a quiet, relaxed mood, Glenn jolted us out of our stupor by demanding, “Who is Jesus Christ to you?” Then, one by one, we went around the room and answered his question. This was, according to his son Gene (then the pastor of a church in Conway, Arkansas), very typical for his father. Glenn didn’t believe in wasting time with idle chitchat, and he thought people should always be thinking deeply about important things.

Because I had first read about Glenn’s injury and his athletic achievements when I was in grade school, I was thrilled to finally meet him face to face. Yet, that night, I realized I was seeing something more than the Olympic hero I’d read about as a child: I was seeing two heroes. Looking at Glenn and Ruth, I knew that they had discovered the path to true greatness – not in the eyes of the world, but in the compassionate eyes of our heavenly Father. They had found a more meaningful life by dedicating their time and treasure to help the “least of these” (Matthew 25:40).

Glenn’s challenging question also reflected the kind of man he had become. Like many great athletes, Glenn lived long enough to see his records broken by others, and to see others receive the accolades and awards that had once been his. Rather than growing bitter or trying to live on past glories, he put his “celebrity” standing to honorable use by helping thousands of needy young people.

Yet such altruism, by itself, is not enough to build a meaningful life. In the end, Glenn knew that life is ultimately about our relationship with Jesus Christ; and he asked us the most important question in life – Who is Jesus Christ to you? – to make certain we had come to the same realization.

It’s a conversation I will never forget – and one I look forward to reminiscing about when I see Glenn again in heaven.

Athletes around the world are now preparing for the 2026 Winter Olympics in Milan, Italy and the 2028 Summer Olympics in Los Angeles. In the near future, I expect to hear many inspiring stories about heroic athletes who have sacrificed much to get a chance to compete. I can only pray that in the aftermath – when their medals are gathering dust, their records are broken, and the roars of the crowds have ceased – they will, like Glenn Cunningham, find Christ and their life’s true calling. Then, at the end of their lives, they will be able to say with confidence, “… I have finished the race, I have kept the faith” (2 Timothy 4:7).