I got to the gym last night and was a bit annoyed to find that my most critical workout item wasn’t in my bag. No, it wasn’t my workout clothes–I was wearing them–or the stuff for showering afterward–my gym’s been without water for weeks now, so I shower back at home.
What was missing was my little spiral notebook with meticulous notes on what weight/seat elevation/seat back position to use on each of the thirteen machines. About six months ago, the gym went to the Hoist fitness system, which adds to the place what my
sister calls “that carnival atmosphere.” The machines are great. They’re kind of aerodynamic, so you don’t realize you’re working out as hard as you are. But they do involve a lot of settings, so I’ve taken along my little notebook every time I’ve gone. While I try to go up a set of weights or a set of repetitions every month or so, I always note it carefully in my notebook.
I thought about skipping my workout, but opted for doing the best I could, putting the seat settings on what felt comfortable and the weight settings on what felt challenging but doable. I can feel this morning that I must have increased reps or weights on much of my regimen. I feel sore, but good sore, not like I hurt myself.
It made me think that maybe that’s what our walk with Christ in general and Lent specifically are about… having the courage to work without a cheatsheet and push ourselves a little instead of doing what we’ve always done. Maybe it’s about having the confidence in God as our safety net, when our plan seems to have been snatched away from us.
I’m sure I’ll find that little cheatsheet eventually and put it back in my bag. But I hope I won’t be as much of a slave to it anymore.
Challenging! Encouraging! Motivating!