On Friday I got off work early and decided that I would check out the building workout room for the third time ever. The first time was when they showed me the building prior to moving in here, and the second time was during a fit of motivation around the beginning of last year. This time I'd been slowly working my way up to semi-fitness using a pair of dumbbells in the safety of my own living room. I decided that the time was right (or long overdue, whichever) to revisit the workout room.

I walked in and noticed that the place wasn't quite as nice as I'd remembered. There were three treadmills, a couple of ellipticals, an exercise bike, a handful of weight machines, and a rack of free weights in the corner - all in decent shape, but not without a tinge of dingy. I was the only one there and wandered around a bit, touching this and that, even squeezing out a few reps. I flipped through one of the magazines that they had in a rack and drank a cup of water from the cooler.

Then I stepped on a treadmill and pressed the start button. The machine groaned and the ground beneath my feet began falling back. Muscles that had long been dormant woke from their slumber and pushed me onward.

Daily, daily, to walk and run, and to push ever forward, even if sometimes it's only just to keep from falling back, to feel pain and - dare I say - suffering, and gaining strength in the midst of a weary race, daily, daily, one step closer, daily, to Thee.