it may not be easy, but it's possible...
A few months ago, I wrote about the new workout regimen Aaron and I started. It's called Orange Theory, or as I lovingly refer to it, Navy Seal Boot Camp. I could hardly walk for days after the first workout, and I wondered how long it would take me to get to the point where I didn't feel like I was dying half way though the class. Well, I can confidently say that while I'm no where near the picture of physical perfection, I've come a long way.
Yesterday was a big day for me. A milestone was reached for the first time in my life. I successfully ran (although it probably looked more like a slow jog) 1.25 miles without stopping... or falling or passing out. I know that seems like a small thing, but I have managed to make it almost 28 years without running a consecutive mile because, well, I have fully believed that I was not made to be a runner. And so while I've always wondered how people managed to run, or why they even wanted to, I saw yesterday that maybe, just maybe, I have been wrong all of these years and I might very well be able to run.
The first time I tried to run a mile was in grade school. I don't think kids even know what the sun looks like these days, but when I was in school we went outside at least 3 times a day. I hated PE and recess. I didn't like getting dirty or smelly, and I especially didn't like running around on the playground. Offer up a nice swing under a shade tree, and I would have reconsidered. But it didn't matter if I wanted to participate or not, I had to go to PE and I had to run. In fifth grade, we took the Presidential Fitness Test. It consisted of a mile run and some other torturous calisthenics like pull ups, which I could never do. Still can't. Anyway, I dreaded running that dumb mile with all my heart. I would have rather taken the TAKS Test (TAAS, STARR, or whatever it is these days) for a full month straight over running a mile. But there was no opt-in, opt-out option. There wasn't levels of fitness testing either. They just lined us up and said, "Run around the school premises two times." I took off running, and I made it to the other side of the school where there was a nice little decline in the road. That would have been my chance to pick up a little speed and maybe make some progress. Instead, I tripped and rolled a ways down the hill managing to get all sorts of gravel in my knees. And so the bad news was that my chance of getting the "fitness certificate" was over. The good news was that I got to go to the nurse's office and didn't have to keep running.
When I made it to junior high and realized I was going to have to play a sport so I could get my PE credit, you better believe I panicked. They told me band would count (I know, that doesn't make any sense to me, either), and so I stuck with that. Then, I realized I was going to have to come up with a new plan for high school. Thankfully, cheerleading was a sport... I mean is a sport... and so I worked up my courage and tried out for the squad. I'd risk 5 minutes of potential embarrassment before I would conceded to try and play any sport involving a ball. I made the squad, and all was well until I discovered that our coach believed our workouts should look something similar to basketball practice. We ran lines, we ran bleachers, we ran laps around the gym, and I began to tell myself slow, out of shape self, that I simply wasn't built to be a runner. That's why I didn't run.
But the truth is, I can run. I have now proven to myself that I can run for 15 minutes straight. I've learned over the past 2 months that I have to trick myself so that I'll keep going. I say things like, "Two minutes... now, it's less than 60 seconds... you just have to count to 30... if you feel like you need to stop at half a mile, you can. Oh hey, you made it! Look, bonus minutes! Now you've gone way past your goal!" And all of the sudden it doesn't seem so tough anymore. It doesn't seem that difficult, either. Why, you ask? Because for two months, I've been running a little more each time I work out. I've slowly been building up stamina rather than setting an unrealistic goal and forcing my body to try and do something it wasn't really capable of. If you would have asked me to run for 5 minutes straight two months ago, I would have refused. But 1 minute turned into 2, 2 minutes into 5, and 5 into 15, and I was surprised at what I was actually capable of.
The same goes in life and in faith. We go through really difficult, trying times and we think, "There is no possible way I can do this. I'm not strong enough to handle this. I'm not brave enough to get through this." But life doesn't always give you an option. Sometimes it brings you to the starting line and says, "Here you go. Best of luck!" And as you put one foot in front of the other, you don't think you'll make it. You weren't cut out for this, you tell yourself. You weren't prepared to do this. You didn't plan on this course, and frankly, you hate it. It's really hard. It's not fun. It hurts and it's painful. And when you look ahead, the finish line isn't visible. How long is this going to take? Will it ever be over? But you look up, and an hour has passed. You did it, you made it through the first hour. If you made it through 1, you can make it through 2. And then you realize it's tomorrow. It has been a full day, and you survived it. Now it's a week, a month, a year later, and you did it. Somehow, someway, you kept moving forward. It got a little easier. The pain is a little less. And you've come to realize that this is something you can endure. Not by your own strength, mind you. After all, you're still weak. But God's strength is made perfect in your weakness, and you can see that it has carried you further than you ever imagined you go. It hasn't been easy, but it's been possible.
Every time I start to get tired, when my legs begin to hurt and my breath gets short, I say, "Thank you, Lord, for giving me a healthy body with legs that work and lungs that are filled with breath." And we must do the same when it gets tough on the journey. We give Him thanks because without Him, we'd be nothing, we'd get nowhere. With God, all things are possible... no matter how impossible they initially seem.
“Humanly speaking, it is impossible. But not with God. Everything is possible with God.” - Mark 10:27
Yesterday was a big day for me. A milestone was reached for the first time in my life. I successfully ran (although it probably looked more like a slow jog) 1.25 miles without stopping... or falling or passing out. I know that seems like a small thing, but I have managed to make it almost 28 years without running a consecutive mile because, well, I have fully believed that I was not made to be a runner. And so while I've always wondered how people managed to run, or why they even wanted to, I saw yesterday that maybe, just maybe, I have been wrong all of these years and I might very well be able to run.
The first time I tried to run a mile was in grade school. I don't think kids even know what the sun looks like these days, but when I was in school we went outside at least 3 times a day. I hated PE and recess. I didn't like getting dirty or smelly, and I especially didn't like running around on the playground. Offer up a nice swing under a shade tree, and I would have reconsidered. But it didn't matter if I wanted to participate or not, I had to go to PE and I had to run. In fifth grade, we took the Presidential Fitness Test. It consisted of a mile run and some other torturous calisthenics like pull ups, which I could never do. Still can't. Anyway, I dreaded running that dumb mile with all my heart. I would have rather taken the TAKS Test (TAAS, STARR, or whatever it is these days) for a full month straight over running a mile. But there was no opt-in, opt-out option. There wasn't levels of fitness testing either. They just lined us up and said, "Run around the school premises two times." I took off running, and I made it to the other side of the school where there was a nice little decline in the road. That would have been my chance to pick up a little speed and maybe make some progress. Instead, I tripped and rolled a ways down the hill managing to get all sorts of gravel in my knees. And so the bad news was that my chance of getting the "fitness certificate" was over. The good news was that I got to go to the nurse's office and didn't have to keep running.
When I made it to junior high and realized I was going to have to play a sport so I could get my PE credit, you better believe I panicked. They told me band would count (I know, that doesn't make any sense to me, either), and so I stuck with that. Then, I realized I was going to have to come up with a new plan for high school. Thankfully, cheerleading was a sport... I mean is a sport... and so I worked up my courage and tried out for the squad. I'd risk 5 minutes of potential embarrassment before I would conceded to try and play any sport involving a ball. I made the squad, and all was well until I discovered that our coach believed our workouts should look something similar to basketball practice. We ran lines, we ran bleachers, we ran laps around the gym, and I began to tell myself slow, out of shape self, that I simply wasn't built to be a runner. That's why I didn't run.
But the truth is, I can run. I have now proven to myself that I can run for 15 minutes straight. I've learned over the past 2 months that I have to trick myself so that I'll keep going. I say things like, "Two minutes... now, it's less than 60 seconds... you just have to count to 30... if you feel like you need to stop at half a mile, you can. Oh hey, you made it! Look, bonus minutes! Now you've gone way past your goal!" And all of the sudden it doesn't seem so tough anymore. It doesn't seem that difficult, either. Why, you ask? Because for two months, I've been running a little more each time I work out. I've slowly been building up stamina rather than setting an unrealistic goal and forcing my body to try and do something it wasn't really capable of. If you would have asked me to run for 5 minutes straight two months ago, I would have refused. But 1 minute turned into 2, 2 minutes into 5, and 5 into 15, and I was surprised at what I was actually capable of.
The same goes in life and in faith. We go through really difficult, trying times and we think, "There is no possible way I can do this. I'm not strong enough to handle this. I'm not brave enough to get through this." But life doesn't always give you an option. Sometimes it brings you to the starting line and says, "Here you go. Best of luck!" And as you put one foot in front of the other, you don't think you'll make it. You weren't cut out for this, you tell yourself. You weren't prepared to do this. You didn't plan on this course, and frankly, you hate it. It's really hard. It's not fun. It hurts and it's painful. And when you look ahead, the finish line isn't visible. How long is this going to take? Will it ever be over? But you look up, and an hour has passed. You did it, you made it through the first hour. If you made it through 1, you can make it through 2. And then you realize it's tomorrow. It has been a full day, and you survived it. Now it's a week, a month, a year later, and you did it. Somehow, someway, you kept moving forward. It got a little easier. The pain is a little less. And you've come to realize that this is something you can endure. Not by your own strength, mind you. After all, you're still weak. But God's strength is made perfect in your weakness, and you can see that it has carried you further than you ever imagined you go. It hasn't been easy, but it's been possible.
Every time I start to get tired, when my legs begin to hurt and my breath gets short, I say, "Thank you, Lord, for giving me a healthy body with legs that work and lungs that are filled with breath." And we must do the same when it gets tough on the journey. We give Him thanks because without Him, we'd be nothing, we'd get nowhere. With God, all things are possible... no matter how impossible they initially seem.
“Humanly speaking, it is impossible. But not with God. Everything is possible with God.” - Mark 10:27
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