Today, however, was a different story. I managed to make it through the day alright--alert in class, semi-alert in chapel, attentive to my readings, and engaged in theological discourse with Rev. Dr. Gary Simpson about Black church culture and the high devilology (I made that word up, but essentially it refers to a doctrine of the devil) that has been racking my soul these days. I even managed to be alert and participate in my preaching class. But, if I can be honest, the Idon'tfeellikeits began rising up halfway through preaching class. From about 5:30 to 7:00pm I was scheming, trying to figure out how I could rearrange my schedule so I wouldn't have to run tonight. After some encouragement from my classmates and the realization that it would be nearly impossible given my busy weekend (without another running day off until Monday), I decided to go to the gym. But friends, I purposed in my heart not to enjoy it.
An hour later, I was feeling much better. It wasn't my fastest run, nor did I have my best form, but I was there. I was there! The Idon'tfeellikeits did not get the best of me! I was there! I completed my second week of training toward establishing a 30 minute running habit. I was there! As we say in church, I pressed my way. And friends, though I may not know yet what it is, I am sure that there was and is a blessing in the press.