Run.
I will be forever grateful for my deep love of and passion for running.
I have not been extremely consistent since starting college, but each time I run it's as if I'm just picking back up where I started. My relationship with running is like a relationship with that of a friend that no matter how much time passes between encounters, the moment you talk with or see them it's as if no time has passed at all. It's a beautiful thing for me, and I'm so grateful for it.
To me, running is more than exercise. It's soothing therapy, a daring adventure, a peaceful form of relaxation. It calms the heart, and eases the worried mind. It allows me the freedom to explore the beautiful world around me. It eases my fears, and helps me escape from the world that drives my anxious mind crazy, if only for an hour or two.
While I run, I often like to talk with God. I tell Him my fears. I pour my worries out, and try to shut off my racing mind. It is here, while I'm running along the side of a coursing river, or through a trail in the mountains, or down a dark street where I can barely see the path ahead of me, that I am reminded how beautiful and precious life is. I love running along and listening to the quiet sounds around me. I love stopping at the top of a hill to look out at the city beneath me. I love stopping to moo at the cows, or neigh at the horses. I love to take a quick break and swing on the swings or take a dip in the river. Call me crazy, but it's one of the simple things in life that I refuse to take for granted.
For me, running allows me to achieve mental balance; it allows me to get a grip on reality and realize what is really important in life. It clears my mind and soothes my worried heart. As my body races, my mind is at ease.
But it has not always been this way.
In high school, I suffered from severe fatigue. It killed my endurance and speed, and drained me of motivation. Some days were marvelous, and I'd run my best workouts ever. I'd be on top of the world, so full of hope that the hellish ride was coming to end. But less than a week later my performance would plummet and I'd race worse than ever. It was a constant guessing game--will my body betray me today? There were some days where I physically could not control my legs, and other days when I'd be gasping for breath after less than a mile. Running is largely a mental sport, and because of my inconsistent body, I was suffering.
I am normally a very optimistic person, and can find the good in difficult situations. But this one, it's hard for me to be grateful for. Even to this day, I think about it all the time. What if my body had just kept working like it had for my first two years of high school? What if I had kept progressing, and just kept running faster and faster and faster? But the "what if" game is a dangerous game, and I have taken the attitude that sometimes life is unpredictable. Sometimes we don't understand the "why" but we must accept it for what it is, and press forward with hope and faith in Christ.
It's the same with my decision to not serve a mission. It breaks my heart nearly every day. I don't know the why. I may never know the why, but that's why it's called faith. Sometimes God works in ways that we cannot understand, but that He can. And we must learn to trust, even when it's not at all what we want, that He knows best.
That's a hard thing sometimes. it's something I'm trying so earnestly to accept in a current situation. But, I know from experience that when we give our will completely and fully to Him, we can experience infinitely greater peace and happiness in this crazy world we live in.
I have not been extremely consistent since starting college, but each time I run it's as if I'm just picking back up where I started. My relationship with running is like a relationship with that of a friend that no matter how much time passes between encounters, the moment you talk with or see them it's as if no time has passed at all. It's a beautiful thing for me, and I'm so grateful for it.
To me, running is more than exercise. It's soothing therapy, a daring adventure, a peaceful form of relaxation. It calms the heart, and eases the worried mind. It allows me the freedom to explore the beautiful world around me. It eases my fears, and helps me escape from the world that drives my anxious mind crazy, if only for an hour or two.
While I run, I often like to talk with God. I tell Him my fears. I pour my worries out, and try to shut off my racing mind. It is here, while I'm running along the side of a coursing river, or through a trail in the mountains, or down a dark street where I can barely see the path ahead of me, that I am reminded how beautiful and precious life is. I love running along and listening to the quiet sounds around me. I love stopping at the top of a hill to look out at the city beneath me. I love stopping to moo at the cows, or neigh at the horses. I love to take a quick break and swing on the swings or take a dip in the river. Call me crazy, but it's one of the simple things in life that I refuse to take for granted.
For me, running allows me to achieve mental balance; it allows me to get a grip on reality and realize what is really important in life. It clears my mind and soothes my worried heart. As my body races, my mind is at ease.
But it has not always been this way.
In high school, I suffered from severe fatigue. It killed my endurance and speed, and drained me of motivation. Some days were marvelous, and I'd run my best workouts ever. I'd be on top of the world, so full of hope that the hellish ride was coming to end. But less than a week later my performance would plummet and I'd race worse than ever. It was a constant guessing game--will my body betray me today? There were some days where I physically could not control my legs, and other days when I'd be gasping for breath after less than a mile. Running is largely a mental sport, and because of my inconsistent body, I was suffering.
I am normally a very optimistic person, and can find the good in difficult situations. But this one, it's hard for me to be grateful for. Even to this day, I think about it all the time. What if my body had just kept working like it had for my first two years of high school? What if I had kept progressing, and just kept running faster and faster and faster? But the "what if" game is a dangerous game, and I have taken the attitude that sometimes life is unpredictable. Sometimes we don't understand the "why" but we must accept it for what it is, and press forward with hope and faith in Christ.
It's the same with my decision to not serve a mission. It breaks my heart nearly every day. I don't know the why. I may never know the why, but that's why it's called faith. Sometimes God works in ways that we cannot understand, but that He can. And we must learn to trust, even when it's not at all what we want, that He knows best.
That's a hard thing sometimes. it's something I'm trying so earnestly to accept in a current situation. But, I know from experience that when we give our will completely and fully to Him, we can experience infinitely greater peace and happiness in this crazy world we live in.
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