Finally fatigued and with the fatigue comes an assault of logic, giving lots of good reasons not to do this; don't waste time, life, money, and effort to try. Do I really want to do this anyway? Even the coffee this morning was bad and my stomach doesn't feel that good to go out and train. The skies are gray, the wind is blowing, and rain is promised. There is no beautiful day to call me out; no gleam in my eye of what might be; no spring in my step at all. OK, here it is. I knew you would show up. Did I expect anything else? Did I really think this was possible with only my own old body, bum knee, and limited resolve?
Maybe today, with my spirit mired in the mud, maybe this is where my ironman training really begins. These are the times, the training, that I either get past or I won't. God will either pull me out of the mire, and put me on paved streets, or He won't. It is well with my soul either way.
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