Running is a very spiritual thing for me. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to tell by my overly-labored breathing and red face that running comes in no way naturally to me. It is a fight. A battle between flesh and spirit.

Sometimes the flesh wins and I cut the run short, giving up on finding a rhythm or pace in which to endure.

But the majority of the time the spirit wins… overcoming the frustrated and throbbing flesh.

I have gotten the opportunity to begin running again. The weather’s turned just warm enough to not completely burn my throat. The world is a little less hectic. And it just feels like time. In so many ways. It’s just time.

I picked up the old mp3 player . (Yes, I’m still living in the world of record players. 😉 No I don’t have an iPod).

With a new battery, underarmor, and a selected route I hit the great outdoors.

The first mile was the usual “dragging from the tailgate of a car over shards of glass” and then the breathing and rhythm regulated. The body hit the groove. And the slower songs on the mp3 player weren’t as bothersome. I was in the groove. I no longer relied on the bass drum to keep pace.

I skipped a selection here or there when I hit a funk, fell a little off balance and needed the “keep up with me” pace.

My usual mix is a bunch of worship songs from various places and stages in my life. There’s the classic Apex worship. And the deep Job-like raw songs.

But somewhere near the end of my route this one came up. It’s an automatic “crank up the volume and be ready to hit repeat” one. There’s something about it. Those words. That all-out truth. A lifesong.

An absolute lifesong.

I tripped and fell on the median grass while closing my eyes. I couldn’t have cared how stupid I looked. My only audience was smiling. And I was pouring it all out for Him. He’s the reason I run. He’s the reason I want to whip this body into shape. I want to be used. Because He’s everything. And I’ll never be the same.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ywzlq2AiAuM]

So if you see me running through the neighborhood, with my beat red face, arms raised and a mud stain on my right pantleg, you’ll know I’ve been listening to it again. Come and join me in singing along… from exasperated lips.