Weak One on Day 1

Not long ago, I resolved to get in better shape.  It all started because of a couple of things:

1)  I was playing with a group of children one Wednesday night to the sudden reality that I was severely out of breath within a couple of minutes, and I mean literally two minutes - this is a problem. 

I have young children of my own... very young children.  I routinely calculate out my age as they grow to the troubling awareness that they might have to visit me in the rest home to show me their diplomas when they graduate.

And........

2)  I saw a recent picture of myself sitting at a table full of food.  The picture was a candid shot, so I had not prepared myself by sucking in my gut and convincing the camera that I have a flatter waistline than I do.  Instead, I saw my slumped, poor postured body with a gut....my gut, larger than it should be, touching the table.  It was not a pretty sight to these eyes.

For these two reasons, both in the same week, I decided to make a change.

[It is at this point I feel I should express some sensitivity to others.  I know that I am a guy with a significantly rapid metabolism. I have always been thin.   Even in my times of major illnesses I was only 35 pounds heavier or so.  Most of my life I have been downright skinny.  I know that to complain about my size could be a little insulting [perhaps nauseating] to others striving to lose or maintain weight.  Please know, insult is not my intention.  My intention is to relay a story of personal deconstruction and observations from the journey I am still traveling.  At the same time, heathy is healthy, and out of shape is out of shape.  I am decidedly out of shape.]

So, on a Wednesday was the breathless dodgeball game.  Thursday of the same week was when the picture was taken, and Friday of the same week is when I woke up much earlier than usual with a terribly strong urge to run [insert Forrest Gump reference here].

Here’s the thing.....I don’t run!!!  I have said many times that I run only when chased.  Since I, and the bullies who tormented me in elementary and middle school, have since matured, I have no need to run from chasers.  

I have friends who run, though.  I see their posts on Facebook about the miles or times or races they have run, it seems to be everywhere.  It’s not quite as common as seeing what people have had for lunch, or the pics of summer temperatures, but almost as much.  It’s nowhere near as much as people going on and on and on about their own kids or quoting things they say - oh, wait.  

I must admit, I have somewhat made fun of such posts of runners [just to myself, until now] and have thought why in the world would anybody want to run when you’re not trying to escape?  Nevertheless, running is the notion I had waking up that Friday morning.

So, I have an app for this.  It’s one of those C25K apps [that’s ‘Couch to 5K’ for the not so exercise-app savvy out there].  This one claims to be the official one.  I don’t know if it is, and I really don’t care either; it has been a good app.  It is extremely user-friendly and downright idiot proof if you ask me.  Apparently I’m running for breast cancer because there is a pink ribbon on all the pages.  Either that, or this grown man is using a girls app.  Oh well.

The app starts training with gradual body conditioning that takes the user to the level of running a 5K in only 8 weeks.  Day 1 almost killed me!!!!!  It literally felt like I was going to die.... or, at least have a really bad situation on my hands.  I ended up in the ER that day, no joke.

Not only was I pasty looking and lightheaded, and my chest pounding with a racing heart, but the sharp pains piercing from front to back through my chest seemed almost unbearable.  I came home, tried not to be overly alarmed, shared the news with my RN wife, and was soon being driven to the hospital for tests.

I knew it wasn’t a heart attack, but I was concerned that I was experiencing blood clots in my lung - I’ve had them before and know what it feels like.  At the same time I felt so stupid.  How out of shape must I be that on day ONE of what I think has been as much a spiritual journey as a physical one, I find myself strapped to a heart monitor getting chest X-rays and a CT scan?  I didn’t even want to tell the doctor I had been exercising.  Could I even accurately say I had been “exercising”?  Does day one even count to say “exercising”, or is it just extra activity?  It’s really more like an orientation isn’t it?

I felt even dumber when he said everything looked to be okay.  He said “there could be very small clots in there, but the good news is, those never killed anyone.  Give it a couple of days, and see how you feel.”  I felt relieved, but still dumb.

I’d be lying if I said part of me wasn’t hoping he might tell me I shouldn’t try to run, that would feel like a relief.  It would be an excuse to quit that I could call a reason.  At the same time, I just felt like running was something I was supposed to do.  Personally, I feel like it has been a prompting of the Holy Spirit to do so, and is certainly why it has felt so spiritual to me.  That first day, though taxing and physically scary, was so exhilarating.  I can’t convey the way I felt when I was done [beyond the whole thinking I was going to die part].

As a result, I have been jotting down some of my observations through the process and thought I might share them here in multiple blog posts over time.  All of them together are too many for a single blog, especially from someone who might be called a long-winded preacher from time to time.

But hey, that’s the beauty of blogging - it’s win, win, win, win for everyone:

  

• I get to write about it, which I feel compelled to do - win for me.  
• I finally have activity again on what has otherwise been a dead blog - win for me (and maybe you).  
• You get to read it and laugh at me - win for you.  
• You don’t have to read if you don’t want to - win for you.  We all win.

So, for today, I suppose the observation is simple - starting anew is not always easy.  Whether it is in exercise, or our walk with the Lord, starting anew can sometimes feel more painful than doing the same thing we’ve been doing for so long.  

I told my wife, after going to the doctor [twice so far], that I was seeing the doctors less when I was slothful and lazy.  The truth is, there are pains that come with the progress, those pains remind us of the work it takes to get to a better place of existence.  I know I’m not where I want to be, but I’m not where I was either - physically or spiritually.  I just want to be a better version of me. 

1 Corinthians 9:24

Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one receives the prize? So run that you may obtain it.