All Glory is Fleeting
This morning, I dragged myself out of bed at 530 am so that I could go swim laps in a pool before the rest of my family woke up.
If you’re wondering why in the world I would do something like this, it’s because my friend and I have talked each other into entering a triathlon and I would prefer to not drown during the 1.2 mile swim.
(If you’re wondering why in the world I would do something like enter a triathlon . . . I don’t have a great answer for you.)
Walking to the pool in the cool predawn, I found myself alone with nothing but my thoughts and the rhythmic thumping of my flip flops echoing through my neighborhood.
“Why am I doing this?” I wondered.
My entire body was stiff and sore from the run I had done the night before. I was tired. I was hungry. I needed caffeine. Walking back to my house for a cup of coffee and a hot shower sounded infinitely more appealing than the cold pool I was about to jump into.
As I lumbered on, I tried telling myself this would all be worth it when I crossed the finish line in three months and a celebratory beer was thrust into my hand. But, that vision wasn’t doing much for me this morning.
Perhaps that moment of glory was too far away for it to be motivating. And how long would it last anyway? Five whole minutes, at…
