Now, I'm a cheapskate. I am happy to use a fitness room that doesn't have all the latest and greatest (no hydro massage table, for example) because I don't have to pay to use it -- not even the low, low price of $4.99 every two weeks. And I'll listen to an ad or two (or ten) to use the free version of Spotify, rather than pay the $10/month I'd need to pay to get rid of the ads.
And therein lies the clashing worldviews. The most frequent ads I hear are for Spotify itself. I wish I could quote the ads directly, but, alas, they always play whilst I'm in the middle of lifting a weight or running on the treadmill. Even for the sake of this blog, I'm not about to dash over to try to somehow capture the content of the ad in all its glory. But they go something like this: "People say that moderation is a virtue, but what fun is that? You should be allowed to eat all the ice cream you want. And you should certainly be able to listen to whatever music you want, whenever you want, wherever you want, without interruption. Click the banner for more details and start your free, three-month premium account now." The message is clear: moderation sucks. Moderation is for losers. (Or for cheapskates who refuse to pay. But they're clearly losers.) You deserve better. You deserve whatever you want. You deserve not to have to exercise moderation in anything, and certainly not in the music you listen to.
The irony does not escape me. I am hearing this message whilst working out. Now, some people might work out because they love it. I am not one of those people. I run, but it's not fun. Sore muscles are just sore muscles -- there is no "good" sore and "bad" sore, just the kind of sore that makes it hard to climb stairs. Basically, I hate working out. I would much, much rather curl up with a good book. Shoot, I'd much rather do most anything than spend an hour in that fitness room.
So, why do I do it? Part of it might be a protest against encroaching age. I don't want to not be able to do the things I can do today, but I know that the things I do today will become harder and harder if I don't keep myself active. Skipping a couple of days doesn't mean just picking up where I left off, it means actually losing ground. So if I hope to be able to do the things I do love to do, like riding my horse and gardening, I need to not lose ground. That's part of it.
Part of it is because I hate the way I feel when I don't get physical activity. I'm not talking about how I feel physically. The physical payoff is maybe nice, but mostly non-existent. I've never felt a runner's high. Running is just always hard. Most of the time, I basically hurt the whole time I'm down there. In fact, I mostly live my entire life with low-grade muscle aches. No, the physical payoff isn't what I'm talking about. I'm talking about how I feel emotionally. Maybe I get more stressed out than most, but by the end of most days, my nerves feel frayed and I'm wound pretty tightly. An hour in the gym unwinds me. It smooths my rumpled soul. It's an outlet for stress. But eating ice cream and reading a good book is an even better outlet for stress, and I'm in the gym, not eating ice cream and reading a good book (which I'd much rather do). So that leads to the real reason I hit the gym.
The reason that gets me into the fitness room from 3:00-4:00 most days is simple obedience. I have struggled with my weight pretty much my whole life. I gain easily. I lose slowly. And years ago, I was convicted that the way I was living was not honouring to God. He has given me this life and a task to do, and I was living myself into an early grave instead -- literally -- heart disease runs in my family, and a genetic propensity for heart disease and high cholesterol coupled with being overweight and inactive is a fast track to an early grave. I was already beginning to show the signs of an immoderate lifestyle. I could have taken pills to fix the problems, but the pills caused other problems, and I knew that the real problem wasn't my physical heart, but my heart before God. I was buying the world's message that moderation was for suckers. I had completely set aside that whole idea about doing whatever I do for the glory of God. It wasn't even about my lifestyle so much as it was about my attitude about my lifestyle. I had to repent. So today I can't eat whatever I want whenever I want to, however much I want. I choose broccoli when I'd rather choose toast and peanut butter. I choose coffee with a little cream when I'd rather have the caramel macchiato with whipped cream on top (that one is easier on my pocketbook, too). I choose an apple instead of ice cream. I order a salad instead of the burger and fries when I go out to eat. I eat until I'm satisfied instead of eating until I'm full. I try to exercise moderation in my eating, and when I don't, the weight goes on quickly; one week of less than moderation results in gains. And I get myself to the gym.
Getting myself to the gym is part of that life of moderation. It is part of honouring God with my life. On the days when I'm particularly unmotivated and wish for any excuse to not go, it is the one reason that gets me down there. Oh, I'm pretty sure that if I think hard enough about it, my left eyebrow is too sore for me to work out today. I should just forget it and go home early today. And I hear that prick in my spirit that says, Really, Marianne? And I sigh and grab my bag and head down the stairs to the
So, when I'm down there, running when I don't want to, lifting weights despite protesting muscles, feeling old and achy and tired, trying to keep my groans quieter than the music playing, and I hear the Spotify commercials telling me that I'm a fool to think that moderation is a good thing, it is such a clash of worldviews. Here I am, precisely because I am living in moderation because it is the right and good and God-honouring thing for me to do, and I am hearing that moderation is ridiculous and I can just "tap the banner" to cast off my shackles once and for all. It's a bit of a slap in the face.
But it's a good reminder, too. Because I've lived the life without moderation. I know that even though it looks alluring and shiny and tempting and free, it is actually a life of slavery. There is a hidden cost. The three-month-free promotion turns into a fee that I don't want to pay. And the life without moderation is not as easily cancelled as the subscription to Spotify might be. The shackles are tighter. The fees are higher: it means sacrificing good health, losing the ability to do the things I love to do (my horse does not carry me as happily when I refuse to be moderate), and mostly, living with the knowledge that I am not living in obedience to my Saviour. Those costs are just too high. I've paid them before. I've had the subscription to that life. I cancelled it years ago. I'm not going back.
So, sorry Spotify, but I'm not hitting the banner. You're wrong. Moderation is freedom. That's why I'm at the gym.
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