I still hate titles...

Well, let me preface this with a story. 6 or so years ago, my dad made this "running tour" chart for me. A semi-devoted runner, he was trying to get me into running as well. I am, however, not the athletically inclined type at all. I have horrible reflexes and endurance... not a great match. Anyways, this chart has little squares that are each worth half of a mile that were like a path that lead from College Station, Texas (where we lived at the time) to various other cities in Texas, with the number of miles away they were. The idea was that each time I ran, I would fill in however many squares I had run, and see how many cities I could pass through. I never got very far during that year, but while searching through some old keepsakes I came accross, I found that chart, and somehow decided to add that to my growing to-do list for the summer. (I still have no idea why... for one, because the list is far too big already, and two, because, what, did I think my feelings about physically exerting activities would magically change? and three, because I know that once I set my mind to something, I have to finish it. Great. Now I'm stuck with running for the rest of the summer?) So, bright and early Tuesday morning, I woke up and ran two miles through the neighborhood. It started out okay, with my motivational music going, feeling the adrenaline... I ran the entire first mile, and only walked twice after that. But about half way through... it was agony. To say the least. I could not fathom how I ever convinced myself that this was a good idea! 3 days later, my legs still feel like jello and I'm staggering more than usual. (I fell over in church on Wednesday. I went to raise my hands, lost my balance... The people behind me were quite entertained.)

So anyways, this schedule I had made that included 6 am runs throughout the week ended up not being followed even remotely. After the pain started to wear off a little, I started thinking about when I was going to go again, since there is no doubt that this kind of endurance is actually good for you, no matter how much I hate it. (Plus, did I mention my stubborness?) But last night before I went to bed, I sat down (slowly, with a grunt) and said to myself, "Uhh yeah, there's no way running is in the picture tomorrow." But I started thinking about the benefits that running could potentially have on my character, in addition to the physical ones, and realized that things such as perserverence, fighting self, denying comfort, etc. are almost more beneficiary than the outward health side. So even though I won't be able to get up in the morning to physically run, why can't I practice another way of "running," as in spiritual running? More specifically, why don't I go to the Friday morning prayer group at my church? It so happens that this was also an item on my summer to-do list. So, at 5:30 this morning, I woke up to run with endurance the race set before me, fixing my eyes on Jesus, the author and perfector of faith, who for the joy set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. (Hebrews 12:1-3)

And that leads me to what happened this morning. However, I have to be at work in 15 minutes, so that is going to have to wait... Sorry for the intense cliff-hanger! (Even though I have like zero followers). I promise to share about it later! But now it's off to Publix. I guess it's time to practice my perserverence in the work field! God is good! :-)

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