I Almost Put My Eyes Out!
The other day in my prayerful haste to make a covenant with myself and the Big Guy Upstairs for Lent and to give up all forms of procrastination, I should have put a limit on “all forms” of procrastination. – Remember that scripture about not running faster than you have strength? Well, I may be on course to finish the marathon with a broken leg in record time.
The past few days have been the most productive I’ve had in months. I’ve organized, cleaned, de-junked, planned, charted, budgeted, prayed, read, and committed myself to being the best me I can be. Perhaps at some point I’ll post individually about all of the things I’ve been working on, but for tonight I just wanted to take a second and (not procrastinate) tell you about this afternoon’s adventure.
As stated the other day, I wanted to join in a commitment for Lent this year that would bring me closer to God. And this morning I thought what better way to start than by taking care of this absolutely beautiful, stunningly handsome, and genuinely studly temple He has given me? A.K.A. my body.
I’ll skip the Bible references since it’s already so late, but we all know the basics of Paul’s oft-repeated words to the Corinthians about treating our bodies/temples with the utmost respect. There’s a whole slough of scripture references on how our bodies are “bought with a price”, how they’re one of God’s greatest gifts to us, how we shouldn’t defile them, and how they are literally temples in which the Holy Spirit can dwell. So as a Christian it is hard to sit around eating my Little Debbie snack cakes each night and then each morning notice a new shade of redish-purple as the spindly stretch marks creep slowly up my ever-expanding belly. “Temples don’t have stretch marks,” I think to myself as I turn my head from the mirror in shame some mornings. “Jesus always had some things to say about solid foundations,” Subconcious Stan will then remind me, and I picture a beautiful temple on a cracked foundation with weird purplish stretch-mark-like foundation cracks. Jesus wouldn’t want His temple on a cracked foundation. And I don’t need to be letting my temple be growing in a greater circumference any longer.
So today I bought a jump rope. No, not a gym membership. Not a fancy weightlifting set. Not new sneakers to pound the pavement with. Just a simple $6.97 jump rope from Wally World. While living in Seattle a few years ago as a missionary for my church I came to find a routine of jumping rope each morning. I started off small and simple at first, but quickly came to a steady routine of jumping 2,000 jumps each and every morning except for on Sundays. It was at this point in my life that I was the thinnest, healthiest, and happiest that I’ve ever been physically. And, in addition to making me feel great, my routine only took 17-18 minutes per morning. It was easy. I had the whole thing timed perfectly. I even knew that somewhere between jumps 720 and 760 the real burning of my calf muscles would start to kick in and I would start sweating like a pig. – It was great!
Upon my return from Walmart this evening I broke the bad boy out. 47 jumps into my foray of fitness I was out of breath and my heart was screaming, “WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?!?!?!?! ARE YOU CRAZY?!” So I stopped before my chest exploded and I had to call paramedics to save me from excercise.
After a four hour rest, and a healthy dinner, I picked up my new fitness pal again. I was not going to put off and procrastinate this getting healthy thing any longer. It took only 15 jumps to notice that my big belly wasn’t there the last time I had seriously attempted to jump rope, and I was afraid that the extra skin on my belly and chest were going to jiggle and bounce enough to jump up and put one of my eyes out. “Men shouldn’t have breasts that jiggle like this,” I gasped out loud as the sweat started to form. 65 jumps this time before it felt like there were hoards of fire ants eating their way out from the inside of my lower legs. I stopped and toppled (literally) over on to my bed.
A very simple start indeed. I’m a chin and a Jazzy Chair away from a TLC special on obese folks who let their food addictions get out of control. So I’m glad that despite wearing myself out over the past few days, in the midst of it all, I decided to stop “putting off” getting healthy. It is a true test to keep our own personal wills in line with God’s, and to keep all of our desires, appetites and passions within the bounds which He has set, but in the end it is truly worth it.
And I didn’t lose an eye today; so that’s a plus.
Perhaps when Easter gets here I will celebrate with a giant chocolate bunny rabbit just for me. But until then I’m going to keep up with this No Procrastinating Thing. It’s kind of fun…Even if I’m completely exhausted.