running

"...let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us. Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider him who endured such opposition from sinful men, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart." (Hebrews 12:1b-3)

I've decided to embrace the over-achieving, over-committing, over-working female genes that seem to have been passed down to me. That is, I've decided that maybe I'm not doing enough. I know, I know, I keep myself pretty busy... but shouldn't I be more proactive about the remaining baby weight? Shouldn't I have just one more goal in my sights? And also, shouldn't I be keeping up with my mom and sister?? Indeed.

So, in that spirit, I've decided to run a half-marathon this summer. I wasn't about to fly down to CA (and bring the rain with me again) just for a weekend run, even though it would have been fun to race with my mom and sister, but thankfully I was able to convince my friend Annie that it would be fun to do one up here. We'll talk about her sanity later. (Speaking of sanity... my sister, with whom I shared a blood-oath to never even think the word marathon again after our last trip to hell and back, decided to run the full LA marathon with her friend. Yeah, I know, I was horrified too. She's lucky I love her, otherwise she would have been cut out completely. Traitor.)

To say that it's been hard to start training again would be an understatement. My body hasn't run, I mean REALLY run, since I was 8 weeks pregnant. That's like, a year ago. Oh, and in the meantime I gained 35 lbs, had a baby, lost 35 lbs, and shifted parts of my body to new and unusual places. Running and I aren't best friends right now.

And yet, thanks to the need to keep myself on the same level as the other women in my family, I'm back on a training schedule. Running when you're out of shape is painful, it's embarrassing, and it always seems like it should be easier. Basically, it totally sucks.

As I was out for my little jaunt around the park the other day I was struck by the ways that my spiritual life has been paralleling this running adventure. Because, if I'm being really honest, this time of Lent has been a chance to open my Bible, bow my head in prayer, and realize how out of shape I am. The most surprising thing so far has been that it hurts. It's not easy. I don't want to do it most of the time. And wow, but isn't that embarrassing?? I've been thinking a lot about the above verse from Hebrews, appreciating the metaphor for discipline but also the need to keep fit, so to speak. Can you stop working out, gain and lose weight, put your body through difficult situations, and still get back into shape? Sure, I've done it before. I know that you can start and stop exercise routines depending on your whims, as long as you're stocked up on Tylenol and ice-packs. And yet I always think that I can start, stop, start, stop, and fizzle my way through spiritual discipline. That I can jump back in wherever I left off; that God will have been waiting and the intimacy will not have changed.

I've realized how often I fool myself with this lie, and maybe it's time for some commitment. Some acknowledgment that relationship takes work, and it's going to be awhile before I'm in shape. Some understanding that, really, that's OK. It's better, even.

Anyway, that's what I've been up to ;-) Oh, and this. And this.