There comes a time in a man’s life when he finally realizes he will never play professional baseball. Or football. Or go to the Olympics.
I’m almost at that age.
I’m at the age where I realize that I’m older than the basketball stars winning March Madness. I’m even older than some of the rookies starting in the MLB this year. It is beginning to dawn that I will never have my name called on Draft day.
I’ll admit, this has affected my training regime more than I’d like to admit.
Maybe I’m the only one who has this problem, but the truth is if I’m not in the running to win or be the best at something, it’s hard to stay motivated. As much as I like to talk about the beauty of running for running’s sake and being made to move and all that good stuff, I just find it hard to get going until I have a real purpose. A mountain to climb, a race to run, a t-shirt to win.
But what are we called to?
Is there a Biblical imperative to exercise? Thou shall not skip leg day?
Is there something about exercise that is particularly masculine? Do real men drink protein shakes?
I cannot say what is the truth of this for you but here’s what it comes down to for me.
Why don’t I like exercising? It’s difficult. It’s much more difficult than it used to be. When I run or lift now, I do it alone, where as I once used to do it in the company of others. Why did I used to exercise? It was to get in shape for races. To compete. Now, ordinary and isolated from the competitions I used to know, I struggle to find purpose in my exercise.
Still, I cannot ignore the fact that I am given a physical body, and God isn’t in the habit of giving useless or meaningless things. So I should treat this body in the spirit in which it was a given, as a gift, free and gracious. I should use it for what it was intended: use!
Now there’s statistical reasons I could give, psychological, etc. but I think at the end of the day we should recognize that what we have been given is not unique to men, but to humanity. God looked on his creation and said that it was good. Our physical forms, though broken and bowed by the fall are still good gifts. And exercise is using that gift.
I make an idol out of success and perfection. I fail to see the value if I cannot succeed. But that is idolatrous, it’s sinful. My exercise will be imperfect and that’s ok. My role as a man will be imperfect, and that is ok. Christ, who came in the likeness of flesh, who knows our bodily griefs and pains and embarrassments, yet without sin, has been perfect for us and has perfected us before the father so that, come that glorious day, our bodies will rise into a glorious state in the resurrection. How great and gracious is God that he will glorify not just our souls but our bodies as well, renewing them into a perfection unimaginable today. All so that we might use these bodies, which hang so clumsy and ill-fitting on us now, fully and in most holy fashion for his worship and adoration.
I suppose that’s better than getting to play in the major leagues.
