I’m a runner. I used to run everyday for miles. at one point I ran a half-marathon. I never stopped. I felt like I could run forever in any direction.
then, I realized, that my exhaustion made it incredibly hard to run. it was hard enough to get out of bed in the morning. much less run 8 miles. my dream of running a full marathon was slowly dying as I could barely make it through the day without napping and falling asleep in class. whenever I could I collapsed on my bed, put in my headphones and slept for hours during the day. I couldn’t help it, my body had crashed.
today I still have to choose between running and sleep. it sucks. most days I choose running. but every time I set foot on the trail I ran all of last summer, all the days before panic attacks and dark days, the days when I could run 10 miles without blinking an eye, it still hurts. it hurts that I can’t move as fast as I used to move, it hurts that I have to exchange my physical energy for mental energy. it feels like an unfair trade.
it’s moments like these when I want to blame God. why pick me to have anxiety? why did one of my favorite things have to become so difficult? whose fault is that?
when I was able to be more serious about running I had a saying: “Wanna know what I do when I don’t want to go running? I go running.”
I still live by that.
I’m going running as soon as I finish this post. even though I’m exhausted.
but now that phrase has a new meaning to it as well. it goes like this: “Wanna know what I do when I don’t want to thank God? I thank God.” it sucks sometimes. but being out on the trail reminds me that ease and motivation are not measures of God’s grace. I know so many who cannot even run at all. Running is grace during weakness.
I pray to God my medication does not have to be a part of my life forever. but in the process, it makes me a better, more disciplined human. and a more thankful Christian.
I hate weakness. but it certainly is good for you.