You all may remember that last week I began an exercise routine known as the Couch-5K.
Or as I like to call it, Death On A Treadmill.
The first time wasn't bad. I actually left the gym feeling like a boss, because I'd managed to do the thing and you know...not die.
On Tuesday and Wednesday last week I didn't do the workout, I just walked. Then Thursday rolled around and I went back to the gym. I popped my earbuds in and stepped on to the treadmill to do my version of the Truffle Shuffle, and my body was all, "Whoa. Wait...what? Didn't you do this Monday? Why do we need to do this again? Don't tell me you're gonna make me do this for reals!"
I was all, "Shut up. Just stop talking to me. I'm listening to Kelly Clarkson, and she says that what doesn't kill you makes you stronger."
To which my body replied, "Keep shuffling lady and I can make that happen."
But I prevailed. I showed my body that I was the boss of it and not the other way around. And then something strange happened...I began noticing a phenomenon that normally doesn't happen to me unless I'm in church and the preaching is particularly fiery and brimstoney-ish.
I was sweating.
It was oh so lovely to behold. In a smelly sort of way.
Friday I went back for more. My body began the usual arguments which then turned to pleading, and finally...to bargaining. But I wasn't having it. No ma'am.
I'll admit that it was a little difficult for me to get over how I must appear to everyone else who was working out. But I looked over to the right of me to the skinny Minnie who was climbing the stairs endlessly...only she was sidestepping her way up the stairs. She looked just as sweaty and ridiculous as I did. She caught my eye and by unspoken agreement, we looked tactfully away from each other and didn't fall off our machines laughing at our silly selves.
I took comfort in the fact that she probably felt more uncomfortable than I did.
Plus, I had unwittingly and single-handedly Jesus Juked the entire joint.
(Pretend that was a really smooth segue into what I'm about to tell you)
Years ago I participated in the March for Jesus. For those of you who may not remember, some people got together and thought Jesus wasn't being worshipped enough in public, so they came up with the March for Jesus. And they sold t-shirts. A friend of mine gave me one and I love it because it's soft and gi-normous. I had grabbed it for my work-out Friday morning and didn't really realize what I was doing until after.
It has a picture of Jesus and the Crown of Thorns on the front. On the back it says, "He walked for me, so I'll walk for Him."
Thereby informing everyone around me that this is not just a work-out for pleasure...oh no my young muscle-bound friends. I was there on a mission from God. (Name that movie!)
Now, if only Jesus and the Father did the Truffle Shuffle. It would make my suffering on this earth so very worthwhile. (Stop looking at me like that Holy Rollers! I'M JUST KIDDING!)