Tuesday morning, my oldest son and I got up at 5 am and headed out to the club. This isn’t unusual, as we have been heading to Spinning classes for several weeks at that early hour. While attending those classes, we could observe a class next door. We decided to check out Cardio-Strength.
Words cannot express how sore I am. Here I was feeling very good about my current fitness level and weight loss . . . boy, was I delusional. I was gassed. I was sucking wind. My legs burned. My lungs screamed. My mind was throwing out constant protests, begging me to walk out of the room. It got worse when the instructor moved closer over to me, in the kindest of ways, and showed me what I was doing incorrectly. She expected me to fold and crease myself into stretching positions with only a thin mat on the floor. She wanted me to lift weights faster, move quicker, and work harder. Was she serious? I kept going — why I’m not sure, but I did. This stuff was HARD!
As I lie in bed writing this, my legs are still protesting. I’m exhausted. But, it’s really good. Exercise is good for me. I know that. I also know that exercise is very hard. It’s supposed to be that way. It’s supposed to push me beyond my point of comfort and ease. Otherwise, I could do it in the recliner with pork rinds in one hand and a beverage in the other. It doesn’t work that way. I have get myself up, be pushed, and work beyond what I think I should be able to do.
My faith shouldn’t be easy, either. I have to challenge myself. I need to be pushed. I have to read, work, pray and reflect on what God is pushing me to do. I need to get outside my comfort zone. I have to move beyond all that is safe and comfortable and get into some God discomfort. By doing that, I grow and God grows in me. This faith stuff is HARD!
Now, I’m off to bed. I hurt, but it’s really good for me.
Ow . . . Ow . . . Ow.