The Miles of the Journey seem tedious and weighty at times. A departure to a rest stop seems soothing at first. However, there is a tension over time that builds and builds. The antidote to that tension, for me, seems to be vigorous exercise, letting go of worldly responsibilities and other people's issues, and just go out with your hair on fire, and start again on the Miles of the Journey. There is a sort of a peace that comes with that afterwards and it is like I know, beyond any doubt, that that was right. It was right where I belonged in that moment in time. I was truly alive in my life. I was me again.
This is crazy stuff, I know. And I could gloss it over with smattering of normalcy, but all the cover up won't make this any different. No apology; I am just this way. I must move and move regularly and purposefully to be at peace with myself in the long haul.
But age says slow down and I feel so out of place with others my age. I don't take any medicine. So I don't have that in common with most my age. I don't go to doctors very often or have procedures. Common ground is hard to come by with people my age. If I say to much about how I feel about things and what I do, the curtain ggoes up. How could I ever convey the joy of pouring yourself out in training to those who are disabled to greater or lesser degrees? And I don't think they really want to hear it. At my age, fitness and health can put you in a lonely spot.
However, the end game is that I am grateful for my health and fitness. I am immensely grateful, grateful to God for given me this life and this health. And the lonely nature of my lifestyle pulls me closer to Jesus as a friend. "What a friend we have in Jesus," the song goes. Indeed, what a friend who has been my friend during these wonderful Miles of the Journey
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