Hello Old "Friend"

I am back in the office this morning...and it feels like an "Ultra-Monday." There is the usual backlog of mail and messages from the weekend, but there are also messages and duties from the entire previous week...a week of vacation that I wish had never ended. But more than anything, I'm feeling it this morning because I had an early morning meeting with someone I have let slip out of my life:

Fitness.

Fitness and I were inseparable in High School. I used to run cross country and train for it...spending evenings out running. I played my share of pickup basketball games, ran track, even golfed without a cart on hot days. Now, granted, the relationship slipped a bit when I went off the college...but I still checked in regularly with pickup games of ultimate frisbee, football, and basketball. But then grad school came...and suddenly I noticed that Fitness and I were having an extremely hard time finding things that we liked to do together. It soon reached the equivalent of rolling over in bed, looking Fitness in the eye, and sobbing quietly, "I don't even know who you are anymore." Our once wonderfully mutual relationship had turned completely one-sided. All I did was give...all Fitness did was take. She nagged, she made me feel guilty, and then, when I gave in, she made me feel old, fat, and tired. Pretty soon, we weren't on speaking terms. And that has pretty much been the status quo ever since. Sure, I lifted some weights in seminary (which, it ends up, was like putting a little more cargo on the Titanic) and have dabbled in running over the past few years...all to no avail. I have longed for those glory days of fun-loving, attractive Fitness...but instead have found a stable of dependable, enjoyable friends in Apathy, Lethargy, and Procrastination.

Now...let's get something straight here...I think that I'm in decent shape. Mostly thanks to Julie, I'm not the average-American who's borderline-cardiac-arrest. I eat well and am relatively healthy. But the recent health test I did for health insurance revealed that I have borderline high cholesterol...which, when teamed with my borderline high blood pressure, means that I probably need to do something I've been avoiding for a while; reconciliation with Fitness.

One of my problems is that I've done the elliptical trainer some over the past few years and I think that my body has learned to "fool" it. I usually "run" on it for about 20-30 minutes while watching a James Bond movie, and when I get done I feel slightly sore but not really all that drained or tired. It's as if my body says, "There, see! You're in shape! Now never do that again." This morning I tried to rekindle my love affair with Fitness through our old favorite: running. I thought that pulling out the walkman and going back to my roots might bring back all those good memories. So I pulled out of bed early and hit the streets this morning...and, boy, let me tell you:

Fitness has let herself go. There is nothing even remotely attractive about her...in fact, these past few years have made her bitter and vindictive. I'm convinced that she hates me. First, she shook loose years of God-only-knows-what in my lungs, causing me to cough like a chain smoker for most of the morning so far (I swear there were some bats nesting down there or something). Second, even after trying to let her know I was coming back by stretching before and after, she took a billy club to my left knee just to remind me that it's been years since I have called, then added double side cramps to really bring home the message. Third, for a "soundtrack," she made sure that he only tapes we still have are old mix tapes I made Julie back in the day that have more songs of the "slow, lovey, mellow" variety than the "fast, motivating, exciting" variety on them...so I was panting and heaving to the soothing sounds of Tom Petty's "Wildflowers" and Neil Young's "Silver and Gold." So it not only looked like a wake and felt like a wake...it sounded like one, too.

Those who run fairly often speak of something called "runner's high," a feeling you get when you're done running that is akin, somehow, to the euphoric feeling you get when you do drugs. Well, this morning was bad acid. They also say that your body sends you messages that you need to listen to when you work out, mine was saying something like: "What the heck is thiiiiiiiiiiiiis!!!???" But, valiantly or stupidly ignoring those messages, I pressed on. When all was said and done, I stumbled into the front yard heaving, wheezing, and listening to the soothing tones of "Blue in Green" by Miles Davis. I was oh-so-close to just lying down in the sprinkler and asking Jesus to take me.

But I guess it is that yellow yard that brought me a small slice of solace this morning. Our yard, once spectacularly green, has recently been upgraded to "extra crispy." But Julie and I have been working at it, dragging hoses and watering more frequently. The lawn seemed resistant at first, screaming "You talkin' to me!!!?" by stubbornly staying pale yellow. But slowly, and surely, the lawn has greened up. It still looks absolutely terrible in places...there is still a lot of work to go...but it's getting there. I just keep thinking about how much easier it will be to maintain rather than catch up. I keep thinking about how much better the house will look. I just need to keep thinking about the benefits of the work I'm putting in...rather than what a pain it is to drag those hoses. I guess you could say that I just have just got to keep at it. And then stay at it.

And so I am "watering the lawn" of personal fitness. And, yeah, it's been a while. And even though I don't think I'm burnt yellow yet...it still feels like I have a long way to go. But even though I know that, even though I preached yesterday on the cost of being who God makes to be...I still sat out back, sucking air to the point that I nearly inhaled our neighbor's dog...

And prayed for underground sprinklers.