The Secret to Strength

“Aaaah!”

I had to stop. I was a mile-and-a-half from my apartment, running along a tree-lined road, but I doubled over as I reached the intersection and a wave of nausea washed over me. I was breaking out in a cold sweat, and I wanted to throw up but couldn’t. My skin was clammy; my hands were shaking. But I was a mile-and-a-half from home on the side of the road, and walking would get me back even more slowly than running, so I took a breath and started running again.

A mile later, something amazing happened. The nausea passed, and I felt as well as I ever had. Instead of heading straight back home, as I’d planned, I finished my five-mile run and jogged up the steps to my apartment ready for more. It was one of the best runs I’d had.

Pushing Through

I’ve talked a couple of times before about the connection between exercise and character-building, but I haven’t emphasized what is, for me, one of the main benefits of exercise. (By exercise, I don’t mean the casual kind that you can do while chatting with a friend about Top Chef; I mean the kind that takes all your concentration and leaves you wobbly and breathless.)

Exercise teaches us how to push through pain.* It teaches us how to feel immense discomfort, knowing it will last as long as we keep going, and keep going anyway. It teaches us to tell ourselves, “No one cares if you’re not comfortable. Stop whining and get the job done.” And it teaches us that when we do that, we come out on the other side stronger.

When I first started powerlifting, I paid for a personal trainer to teach me how to use the barbells. His method was always the same. We’d go to the squat rack, and I’d do a set and be feeling pretty comfortable. And he’d say, “Great. Let’s add another ten pounds.” I’d shift, sink down under the weight, and then clench my abs, grit my teeth, and stand up.

“Great. Let’s add another ten pounds.” And so it went, until I’d gone further than I thought possible. He could judge how much I could take; I hadn’t a clue. I just had to trust he knew what he was doing.

Another Ten Pounds

Have you ever had a day (or a week, or a year) when it felt like God was doing this to you? You run into some trouble, but you handle it pretty well, and just when you start to feel proud of yourself, he says, “Great. Let’s add another ten pounds.” And you sink a little, but you grit your teeth and straighten your shoulders and lift it. “Great. Let’s add another ten pounds.”

God does that for the same reason my personal trainer did – because it makes us stronger. God is your spiritual personal trainer. He has a workout plan all ready for you, and it’ll take you farther than you ever thought you could go. You just have to trust he knows what he’s doing and how much pressure you can take. (Those words are in a tune that’s been one of my theme songs lately, if you’re interested.)

The Secret to Strength

Have you ever wondered how people gained the strength to act mature and godly in the midst of enormous hardship and pain? I’ll tell you the secret: It’s by acting mature and godly in the midst of a thousand little hardships and pains. We learn to carry the cross one splinter at a time.

Every time you don’t want to work out, but you get up and do it anyway, you’re gaining strength. Every time you don’t want to confront your coworker, but you do it anyway, you’re gaining strength. Every time you don’t want to take the time to help someone, but you do it anyway, you’re gaining strength. Every time you receive bad news and take it with grace, you’re gaining strength.

That day out running wasn’t the last time I’ve battled nausea working out. But you know what? Now, when it comes, I know that if I’ll just wait ten minutes, I’ll feel fine again. I just have to hold out a little longer. And if you’re going through something right now, I would encourage you to just hold out a little longer, because you will come out on the other side. And when you do, you will be stronger – and ready to face the next challenge.

*I’ve had a severely sprained ankle and a rotator cuff injury that kept me from running and lifting, respectively, for several months each. I’m not talking about running on an injury; I’m talking about the normal pain of burning muscles and fatigue.

“Lauren cresting the hill” by Malcolm Slaney is licensed under CC BY 2.0. To view a copy of this license, visit: https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0