I Hate Running

I hate running.

I don’t enjoy the sound of my shoes hitting the pavement or having to squirm out of my sweaty sports bra when it’s over. No, I can’t seem to appreciate sore ankles or before run stretches. I’ll not lie and say that running is something I have come to enjoy or that I may ever stop dreading

But what I dislike more is the neglect I’ve placed on this body of mine in my nineteen years. I hate how easy it is to talk myself out of taking care of myself, and then to criticize what I see in the mirror. This body is the one that God has blessed me with. Yes, a blessing indeed even when it doesn’t seem like one. I have feet to hit the pavement and ankles to be sore, lungs that take in the oxygen I need and a heart to pound in my head when I push myself farther, harder.

Lord, help me to take care of this ‘temple’ that you have created, this body in which you have placed a soul that desires more of You.

1 Corinthians 6:19

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