Becoming strong

I despise treadmills.

Even disregarding my childhood accident in which I got stuck between a wall and the end of a treadmill (picture five-year-old me screaming “MOMMYYYYYYY!!!” while waiting for my cousin to notice me, stop the machine, and halt the treadmill belt from further detaching the skin from my body), I simply do not care for them.

I have never been fond of running just for the sake of running. I like tennis, and I do not mind the running required for the sport, but then at least tennis involves running toward an object, toward a goal. If the ball moves faster than the player, the other player gets the point, so running is a rather fundamental aspect of the game. The concept of running in order to practice running faster, meaning that one consciously wishes to torment oneself at an even quicker pace, never appealed to me. Thus, the practice of running on a stationary machine also fails to tempt me. (For some unknown reason, however, ellipticals usually escape this contempt from me.)

But what did I do at the gym yesterday morning? After my regular workout, I hopped on the treadmill for fifteen minutes. I never advanced more than about two inches from where I first planted my feet, wasted that exertion for no progress.

On the other hand, perhaps progress is the wrong word. Maybe I never went much of anywhere, but I did progress. I improved. The exercise developed my muscles and endurance, as much as it can in fifteen minutes, anyway. And I sure sweat enough to convince myself I was working hard!

Sometimes in my Christian walk, I feel as though I am stuck on a treadmill. No matter how hard I press on, the belt catches up with me, and I am right where I started again. There is no advancing. My efforts feel pointless, and I wonder why I continue to bother. I may pray, study scriptures, go to church, serve others, or sing worship tunes along with the car radio (usually quite poorly), but I seem no closer to God or act more like Him than I did before. Like my regular workout, day to day living is exhausting enough. Why fuss with extra efforts that seem to offer no immediate gains?

Fifteen minutes on a treadmill will not groom you for the Olympics track. For some, fifteen minutes probably is not enough prep for the sidewalk. But a first-time marathon runner would not head out for 26.2 miles without training first. The same is true for faith.

The writer of Hebrews speaks of running in the book’s twelfth chapter, in the first passage about God’s discipline. “…let us strip off every weight that slows us down…And let us run with endurance the race God has set before us… No discipline is enjoyable while it is happening—it’s painful! But afterward there will be a peaceful harvest of right living for those who are trained in this way. So take a new grip with your tired hands and strengthen your weak knees. Mark out a straight path for your feet so that those who are weak and lame will not fall but become strong.” (Hebrews 12:1, 11-13 NLT)

Our spiritual lives do not always center on “moving forward.” In order for us Christians to run toward our “heavenly prize” that Paul mentions in Philippians 3:14 though, we must train for the race. We have weight to cast off, endurance to improve, pain to suffer, and knees to strengthen, all while staying on a straight path. Is God calling us to a spiritual treadmill? What if those morning devotionals, afternoon prayers, and evening Bible studies serve a lasting purpose even when they seem futile in the moment? Though those fifteen minute “workouts” usually present little or no instant improvement, God uses this time to strengthen us for future trials.

And unfortunately, His treadmill often makes me sweat just as much as those pesky things at the YMCA!