Come what may, I want to run. -2 Samuel 18:23, NIV
Sadly, if things were falling apart, even David wasn't sure they were going to get worse. David was a warrior, a soldier. The bravest (and most decent) of Israel since Joshua and Caleb, it was discouraging to see a virtuous leader show his deep, dark secret side. Like a ripple, his shame would be known to the whole of Israel, the dirtiest scoop royal paparazzi would expect from the king. And on top of that, someone had to be brave enough to tell him the worst news a father could ever bear to listen: his son Absalom has been murdered.
Yes, it was a patriotic duty: they needed to defend the country of any type of invasion, be it internal or external. Yes, the Lord vindicated His nation -but there was so much behind such deliverance that no fool would understand the implications of anyone delivering such unsavory news to the king. David could kill them. David wouldn't give them any reward -no recognition, no trophy, no prize money, no plaque, nothing. David wouldn't even grant them a seat of honor in the royal banquet. There wouldn't be royal rides or graces, or even one-time pardons. It was bad news, who would deliver them.
Ahimaaz didn't care about that; he only wanted to say the news. He needed to run. That was his job, being a messenger. It took a lot of faith in his part -perhaps he already visualized the swords on his head or the daggers on his groin. But he had to, he had to run. Maybe he met Absalom some time before, his face wasn't familiar. Usually, he was in his room, plotting ten different ways of making his father's life miserable. Now he's… dead!?!? What kind of sick fate was that!?!? The cost was enormous sure; his life was depending on it. Of course he cared! But he had to run-it was his duty, he had to.
In his brain, he pictured an overwhelming array of voices, all negative with squalor. "I will speak no more", one said. "I will run away to Tarsis", rebelled again. "…And you want me to marry a whore?", questioned again. These words buzzed over his brain. He couldn't take it, he had migraines, he wasn't going to stop. His father was spartan enough to minster in the Tabernacle while being sick, he can run to the temple. He can do it, he can do it!
But then he froze. Perhaps he forgot the message. Maybe his foolish action paved the way for his Olympic future, but running for no reason didn't help. It only exasperated David. His Cushite opponent beat him to the punch and said the right words. And Absalom was standing there, frozen. Maybe he didn't had a reason to run, after all. Or maybe he forgot.