I make my trainer (Ben) work really hard. The poor thing went out of town for a few days, then was sick for a few days, and wouldn’t you know it- I didn’t run that entire time.
It’s kind of “our way” that this lack of running is totally his fault. 🙂 So, just as we were finishing up a game of Life yesterday with the kids, and the sun was getting ready to set, I leaned over to him and said,
“You really are a terrible trainer. I haven’t run in so long, and now look. The sun is setting and another day has just slipped by.”
Then I let out a villainous laugh.
I guess I said this about 17 minutes too early, because that man actually made me get my running stuff on and get out the door before it got too dark. Then he bundled the kids up and walked to the half way point to meet me and cheer me on. What a site. Slow, laboring, mommy with a scowl on her face – meets the screaming cheers of one husband and three small children in the middle of a watching neighborhood.
I’m still in the, “this feels terrible” stage, but the good thing is that at least this year, I know that passes eventually. I feel a little guilty that it takes an entire cheering committee to keep me moving, but hey…
Running remains a wonderful metaphor for this season of my life. Everything in me is ready to give up right now. I’m ready to give up entirely on my body, to forever hide my legs under long pants, to give up swimming and sunning until heaven, and to let whatever the ill effects of baking with lots of butter are. Spiritually, I’m ready to settle in. I’m ready to sit on all I’ve learned to this point and call it enough. I’m ready to avoid suffering, challenging relationships, and to stop praying for anything I can’t secure with my own strength.
Running makes me work, it makes me pray, it makes me keep going. It’s good for my body, obviously, but when I do it, I can’t help but translate the wonderful effects of doing something challenging to my relationship with the Father. When I run, I’m telling Him, in my own way, that I’ll keep running with Him too. I won’t slow to a walk or sit down on a rock until He comes back.
(It also makes my lovely butter addiction and bit more manageable.)