When I was young,I dreamed of the perfect body, living in a machine of flesh that was picture perfect, turning heads, making waves. I set out to do this. I honed my understanding of the discipline and knowledge of how to get that quest fulfilled. I watched what I ate. I ate a lot of chicken, because, protein to a muscly, lean ripped body, was paramount. I went to the gym religiously. I dreamed focused, OBSESSED about this body. I had mediocre results. It cost a lot. To achieve such a body that you see on magazine and movies, there is a need to sacrifice, mirror gaze, self-flagellate, starve and become a machine. In essence, you train until you become what you train for. This is all fine and dandy, and given that you may have been blessed as some of my friends were (like one!) with the genes to have great muscled results; this is a dangling carrot on a stick. I however was a hard gainer with a stubborn jelly belly. Problem is, that as a man of God on his way to becoming more like Jesus, and being shown who I am from Hi s perspective, it become glaringly apparent that I am not an Adonis in the commercial sense. NOPE. In fact about .000004% of men are. Movie stars and models who sport a six pack, barrel chests and horseshoes tris are professionally obligated to regiment their lives around their appearance. I have not been called to that, nor am I easily attaining to this.
SO where did this leave me? How do I achieve the perfect body? Well, it took some healing. I needed my heart to hear over and over: "You have the perfect body." God repeating himself to my heart, putting confidence in my own created flesh to understand that as a man created by him intentionally, I was perfectly made. I can be who I was created to be in excellence by discovering what is healthfully giving me life and I found that bodybuilding, fine in its own discipline, would continue to suck the life, the time, the energy from me with results that would never satisfy. I would never measure up, never be that man on the cover, cuz that is not who I was created to be.
At my work I saw the contentment in a man who was 20, wheelchair bound, and needed daily support to live his life. He was perfectly made and never thought about how he didn't measure up. He passed away from a disease that ate away his muscle. Was he less loved, less of a man than me? Not at all. He was perfectly made.
What I discovered was that I was already what I was designed to be, and that running fit me perfectly. Metaphorically, allegorically, poetically, spiritually, physically, maritally, I am born to run. It calls to me like the gym never has. Nothing wrong with the gym, but getting out on the road, lacing up my shoes, kissing my bride goodbye as she continues to sleep and looking in the mirror with satisfaction for a body that CAN run, is blessed to run, gives me more than I could ever have dreamed. I love how strong, how intense I feel when running. I lov eknowing that pushing myself is a strength that God talks to me through, like when I sing, paly guitar, even pray, it comes to me naturally because its who I am. I have the perfect bod. Check me out. Take me in, drink in my freakin' essence. BAM. Chad is here. Thank you Creator.