Pep Talk: Reasons to Exercise

[In case there was a question, the person I'm preaching to here is me. If someone else is helped, good.]

This morning I ran 2 miles on a treadmill. It was horrible. I forgot that running on treadmills always leaves me feeling nauseous and woozy. (I think it's because I always spit all. the. time. when I run, and on a treadmill I have to just choke on that nasty phlegm the whole time...) Anyway.

After recovering from that, here are 5 reasons why I should not and (hopefully) will not quit pushing to get some form of physical exercise in my life. 

1. Good decisions tend to beget good decisions. As witnessed by the fact that this morning I had a bowl of cereal and a fruit smoothie for breakfast. Instead of a huge cinnamon roll. Speaking very pragmatically, when I realize the amount of physical exertion required to burn 208 calories, it makes me a little more sensible about what I pop in my mouth on a whim. And getting in the habit of making wiser decisions ... that's helpful in a lot of ways.

2. You are more likely to pray, memorize, and review Scripture while you exercise. I may not have derived too much deep spiritual insight from my rough review of Colossians 1-2 this morning, since I was basically just desperate to take my mind off the horribly slow progress of blinking lights around the loop on the treadmill, but nevertheless those words are fresher in my mind than they were before. And normally when I'm outside and moving, it's a great time to pray, since I have to focus my mind anyway to keep pushing forward.

3. When you are stronger, you have more energy to love your family and others. When I'm tired, low energy, and feeling weak all over, it's an extra hurdle to putting others' interests ahead of my own and jumping into loving people around me. I've had long seasons when I just haven't gotten enough sleep at night to muster the strength to exercise during the day. But when I'm at a pretty "normal" rest level, then working to get consistent exercise has definitely been a big energy and strength booster. And even when I'm too tired for an intense workout [intense = 2 mile run, ha!], even getting some fresh air for a short walk is a good boost.

4. It's a good reminder that the flesh is a good servant and terrible master. When I'm on the homestretch in a run, often the words that come to mind are, "Therefore, I do not run like a man running aimlessly; I do not fight like a man beating the air. No, I beat my body and make it my slave, so that after I have preached to others I myself will not be disqualified for the prize." There is something in exercise that reminds me not to coast in the rest of life.

5. If you exercise, you may live longer. As Paul says, "That will be fruitful labor for me."


And 3 points to balance the perspective:

1. Exercise can take too big a place.
2. Your body is a temple. Worship God with it, and not body image, physical victories, or acseticism.
3. All things are created by God and good, when received with gladness and prayer. Even huge cinnamon rolls, thank You Jesus.

Run #2

Colds are behind us.  We made it through a very crazy weekend and Monday.  So yesterday was time quit stalling and get out for a run.

Victor was excited (as always) to go outside.  I felt substantially more dubious.

Overcast, mild, humid.  Not really my favorite running weather, but not bad enough to turn around and go back inside.

We rounded the first corner, and the fun was pretty much over for me.  Started raining.

Large construction vehicles were working on the sidewalk one block later.  (Made Victor very happy.)  I barely curbed the desire to turn around and go home and decided to cut left into the residential area and run in the street.  Less steering.

Turning the next corner, the rain grew heavier.

Our jogging stroller cover shields approximately 6 inches of the seat below. For reasons unfathomable to me, the cover is banked upward, and it has no latch to hold it in place, so it catches the wind if you're moving even remotely (which I was, barely), it folds back up.

So, by the time we turned the third corner and actually headed into the wind, the cover would fold outward for about 10 seconds, until I hit a bump or a gust of wind, and then it collapsed, and Victor would get further rained on.  I guess it was motherly strength that enabled me to hold the cover out, push the stroller with the other hand, and run a little faster to try to get him back to dry land.

5 blocks to go.
4 blocks to go.
3 blocks to go.
2 1/2 blocks to go.
2 1/4 blocks to go.
2 1/8 blocks to go.
2 blocks to go.
1 7/8 blocks to go.
1 5/6 blocks to go.
1 3/4 blocks to go.
1 2/3 blocks to go.
1 1/2 blocks to go.
1 1/3 blocks to go.
1 1/4 blocks to go.
1 1/6 blocks to go.
1 1/8 blocks to go.
(I'll spare you the pain of continuing, but I assure you, the pain continued.)

Finally, the last corner.  I gave up on holding the cover out and focused on the task at hand.

Keep moving.
Do not let go of the stroller.
Go up big hill.
Do not get hit by cars.

I'll be candid.  By mid-way up the hill, I was perhaps moderately hallucinating about a kindly car seeing my obvious distress, pulling over, and offering to give us a ride home. 

You start a run knowing that if it doesn't kill you, it will make you stronger.
You end wishing, hoping, pleading that you could die.

But, we didn't.

Got home, and I walked back and forth in front of our house for quite some time, until I was fairly confident I would not pass out or drop my child when I went inside.

All in all, a good day's run.

[Note: Some of you may assume I am somewhat exaggerating for the sake of dramatic effect.  I thank you for your charitable judgment.]

Sufficient

I signed up for a half marathon run in August. I’ve run half marathons before, so I knew what I was getting myself into—however, I’ve always trained in the very early spring and been finished with the whole affair by mid-May. When I did my first semi-longish run this June (a mere 5 miles), one humid Saturday afternoon, I realized that this was going to be a different animal.

I like to run, generally speaking. But the summer heat and humidity just flatten me. I have typically trotted for an occasional 2 or 4 miles over the summer—and been glad to end at that. But the kind of long, intensifying training runs that a half marathon require are a humbling reminder of how weak I really am.

This morning it was 9 miles. I woke up feeling depleted and weak. To be honest, I’ve been dreading the 9 mile run ever since I finished the wretched 8 mile run last week. And this particular week has been one of the more grueling (not bad, just packed with demands).

By mile 1, I was tired. I typically count off the half-mile stretches and mentally track my course, but I just couldn’t. I knew I wasn’t strong enough to finish. So for the remaining 8 miles of the run, I fixed my eyes on a spot on the sidewalk 10 or 20 feet ahead and ran to it.

Then I picked another spot. And so forth. Every time I lifted my head to see the long hill ahead or the distant mile marker I was crawling toward, I wanted to quit. So I’d look down again for the next crack or tuft of grass or paint splotch and run 10 feet farther.

The verse that has been cropping up the past few weeks is 2 Corinthians 12:9:

And He has said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for [My] power is perfected in weakness.” Most gladly, therefore, I will rather boast about my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may dwell in me.

I finally crossed the official ending line (the crack in front of the neighbor’s driveway) and slowed to walk. My left pinky toe had a blister (developed at mile 7), and I was spent. But at the same time, it was exhilarating to experience, in my own body, a spiritual reality that will hold true no matter what the traumas, trials, or temptations may come in the days ahead.

One leg at a time, one aching step at a time, His grace will carry me through.