It was somewhere between vulcan squats and throwing that I realised I had it all wrong. It was Tuesday, the first day back at work after a long weekend and, the first day back at gym after a week off.
Let me interrupt my own post for a second, this is a change of pace from my previous post. My previous posts have been about the rest of the world, this one is about me. Previously I’ve tried to find sense in others, today I discuss my severe lack of sense.
The week off had taken it’s toll, my arms hung loosely from the shoulders, the ache already set in, and despite my feet being firmly planted on the ground head spins caused me to stumble.
There I was. A twenty nine year old man, husband and father, swaying in front of the mirror.
I typically add Christian to this list but in my dazed state, I was questioning. Do I actually believe?
I’d had a week off gym and been planning for this day. I’d committed to not only a heavy gym routine but a new diet. I was keen to start, so much so, my wife is surely sick of hearing about it. In contrast, I haven’t prayed in over 3 weeks.
My mind drifts back to Sunday, I’m singing the words “here I am to worship” while proudly declaring “How great is our god”. Fast forward 48 hours and I’m standing in front of the gym mirror doubting the extent of my faith.
A drink of water, I stupidly thought, that’s what I need. Let’s douse these silly thoughts…Hydrated, yet not satisfied; still ultimately confused.
I pay money to come here to exercise, I spend 4 hours a week here. I show up daily in my lunch break I change, sweat, shower and rush back to my desk. I’ve researched workout routines and treat muscles aches as a sign things must be working.
I think, talk or act exercise each and every day. But speak to Jesus, my saviour in a very sporadic way.
There was nothing spiritual about my sudden urge to get to bathroom, or was there…it’s Jesus who begs us to rid ourselves of our old ways.
For anyone that has ever vomited you’d understand the empty feeling but mine was definitely more than just physical. I had a whole that only he could fill but I needed to ask him. Jesus won’t fix all your problems unless you want him to.
For the first time in weeks I prayed. Thanking him for my life cleansed me more than any post workout shower ever will.
Its Friday afternoon now as I write this post, I’ve completed this weeks four gym visits and my diet hasn’t slipped. Jesus and I talk daily and I enjoy every little bit
I was working out more often than praying, it’s no wonder I felt sick and was heavily swaying.