Adapt or Die

I might have mentioned before that I am not a runner.  I mean, I really like the idea of running.  I might even occasionally go for a jog.  Whenever this happens, though, I usually get a tight stitch in my side within the first half-mile and want to die.  While I might painfully struggle through it as far as a 5K, that happens only once every several months, and then I stash the running shoes under my bed and forget about them until my next short lived episode of runner wannabeness.

This past August, after some positive peer pressure from a friend at the YMCA, I jumped on the latest fitness bandwagon and joined CrossFit, a phenomenal community that I have come to love and obsess over.  Now, after participating in crazy intense cardio and weightlifting 3-5 times a week, I've found new confidence and desire to become more athletically inclined.  This past Thanksgiving, I decided to try running a 10K.  I had never run that far in my life.  It nearly killed me.  I couldn't walk the rest of the day, but I survived, and was hungry for more.  Now, I find myself signing up for more races-- a 7 mile mud run on March 9th, a 5K on St. Patrick's Day, and a half marathon in May. 

Two Saturdays ago, I dug out the running shoes to start training.  I've been Crossfitting regularly for 5 months now, and I had narrowly survived the 10K in November, so I felt I could try for 4 miles.  I picked a flat stretch of road on a bright, sunny morning.  It came easily.  I was excited. 

The following Wednesday, it was cold and snowy outside, so I opted for a run on the treadmill at the Y.  I finished a 5 mile run without a stitch.  It felt amazing.

Saturday morning, I had Justin drop me off at the end of our street--about 3.5 miles from home.  I ran along the edge of the shoulderless, hilly road.  It was cold and windy that day.  I had forgotten to wear a hat and gloves.  I was miserable.  Whenever a car passed, I had to avoid getting run over by jumping off the road, teetering at times on the edge of a narrow ridge that dropped off into a ditch or creek below.  There were a couple of big hills that I wanted to walk up, but I kept hearing the words, "Adapt or Die" echoing in my head,   I really don't know where the phrase came from.  Maybe a movie?  A t-shirt?  A science text book on evolution & adaptation?  I don't know, but I was motivated by the idea that, while I might not necessarily be struggling for survival, if I am to live the life I want to live, and accomplish the things I want to accomplish, I will need to make some changes.  I will need to adapt to the elements.  I will need to train my mind and body to overcome the obstacles. 

A few days ago, the kids and I were reading in the book of Moses.  It tells of an experience Moses had while in the mountain, conversing with God.  Moses explains that in order for him to endure the presence of God, an adaptation had to take place.  "For behold," Moses declared, "I could not look upon God, except his ^aglory should come upon me, and I were transfigured before him....for my ^dnatural eyes could not have ^ebeheld; for I should have ^fwithered and ^gdied in his presence; but his ^hglory was upon me; and I beheld his ⁱface, for I was ^jtransfigured before him."  Adapt or die.   Transfigure or wither.  Moses was in training for something much more intense than a 7-mile mud run or a women's half marathon.  He was preparing to face Pharoah--to defy the gods of Egypt--to deliver his people from bondage.  And he had the ultimate personal trainer--the creator of the universe--to help him get ready for the muddy obstacle course that lay before him.  

I am not a prophet.  I have never seen a burning bush that wasn't consumed.  I have never divided great waters and caused dry land to appear.  But I do believe that God has a work for me to do.  I have been sent to earth for a purpose-- to teach my children, to love my husband, and serve my fellow men.  In order for me to fulfill my calling and live life to the fullest, I will have to do some intense training.  I must allow myself to be stretched and molded.  It will not be easy.  I will be made uncomfortable at times.  I will need to keep running when I want to quit.  But the choice is mine to make.  I can either adapt and transfigure or wither and die.  I choose the former.