This is apparently what 150 5ks look like when you’re 49 and start “running” at 47. Running is a loose term for what I do every Monday morning. It’s really more of a shog or a juffle, but I’ve managed to speed up my time and slow down my heart over these last two years of exercise.
I am not a runner, or an athlete of any sort, and I never have been. I can’t throw a ball, swim the butterfly, defend a goal, or serve anything over any net with any accuracy. As an adult, an invitation to play any “pick up” sport, even bowling, makes me sweaty.
But I’ve managed to put one foot in front of the other, faster than I ever have before, for 3.1 miles every Monday morning since December 28, 2020. And I’m proud of my consistency, that I tried something new and well outside my comfort zone, even though I am not a spring chick anymore.
And I’m led to wonder- where else have I let my head get in the way? Where else in my life have I convinced myself I can’t do something simply because I’ve never done it before?
What part of this hesitancy of mine proves I’m an obedient servant of God? None of it.
I’ll keep my Monday morning routine (because I’m nothing if not doggedly consistent), but more importantly I’ll work to keep a more open mind to God’s plan for me. I once heard someone wise say, “If it’s worth doing poorly, it’s worth doing.” So, what else can I do poorly, as an act of obedience to my Heavenly Father?
And for the record, this last picture is what 100 5ks look like at 48, because I hit that goal last December and never wrote about it. 🙂
