I’m working on a habit. A good one, I hope. I’ve been slipping the sneakers on at the end of the day, and going for a run around work. Even picked up a running partner lately. Steve’s training to run a 5K in memory of his wife, who passed away from cancer. I’m running for a much less worthy reason, for the most part. It feels good. I feel like I’m accomplishing something everytime I can run a bit farther than I did previously, or run the same run without giving up and needing to run that last hill on the last quarter mile back to work. And I really like the idea of the jeans fitting a bit better as a result. Gives me the motivation to skip the chocolate that my project lead so sadistically keeps in his office.

It’s time I take from my family, I realize. I try to trade that off by eating my lunch at my desk for the most part, so hopefully I’m not chaining Jason to two youngsters for longer than necessary. And I try to make it up to him – (hint, hint- I’m feeling guilty, Jas – you could work this to your benefit). My habit is fast becoming an addiction, though my speed doesn’t similarly count as fast. For me, a long run is 3+ miles, though I have dreams of marathons… maybe even this year, if I can figure out how to fit in the time necessary to run the LSDs (an addiction of their own, but means Long Slow Distance) necessary to build up to 26.2.

I looked up Biblical references to running – came up with a few. Heb 12:1 seems to fit – I’m trying to earn the perseverance to run the race. Something to cogitate upon to redeem the time – it’s Bible study time, honey. Really.