Exercise as Prayer

December 24, 2005

For those of you who are offended by references to God, please delete.

I woke up this morning early and got ready for my distance run. I

was happy to have leisure time to really get ready—mentally and

spiritually. One thing I wanted to share with everyone, particularly

the pre-ops is that exercise has taken on a whole new meaning in my

life. I never ever thought that I'd exercise the way I do—5 days a

week; alternating three days of circuit training with weights with

three days of running.

When I was still a pre-op, a wonderful woman, Pat who became my angel

during this entire process, spoke at a support group meeting. She

entered the room, looking like a younger, more beautiful Joan Lunden,

simply radiant. I thought, " She's got to be the wife of a WLS

patient. " But she began to talk and SHE was the patient, and she

turned my thinking around about gastric bypass surgery. She said

that she is just like every other normal weighted person: she has to

watch what she eats and exercise to maintain her weight—for the rest

of her life. FOREVER. She explained that the way she was able to

get to her goal—she is stunning (in my humble opinion)—was by

exercising hard, smart but hard.

I thought, " She knows something. Look at her. She knows the answer,

and I'm going to follow her example. " The next morning I got on the

treadmill and started with baby steps. I started the circuit

training with 1 lb weights. I started with one sit up. And I made

my exercise time my time… my time to commune with God and to reflect

on my new life. Then as I went from pre-op to post-op, I was

suddenly able to do more and more. As I lost weight, the exercise

gave me more and more energy. I went from 1 MPH on the treadmill to

6 MPH. I went from 1 lb weights to 15 lbs in each hand. I went from

1 sit up to 350. Gradually. Gently. And this physical power gave

me emotional strength as well. Strange how the two are linked.

Then I went from treadmill to marathon training, and on August 31,

2005 I ran 13.1 miles to complete the San Francisco National AIDS

Half Marathon.

How did I do it? How did I move from being inactive to athletic? It

was all in what I told myself. If I had told myself during each

workout, " This hurts, this is too hard, I can't do this… " I never

would have gotten to where I am now.

I ran 10 miles this morning! And it felt GREAT!

I'm not saying that everyone can run 10 miles; I know I'm lucky that

I had gastric bypass when I was 40 and my knees are still in good

shape. But my point is that exercise is something I now do not

because I have to, but because I have to—I'm hooked on it. Not

because it's so much fun (but I have maximized the fun factor for

me), but because my whole workout is a prayer. It is a time to sort

out problems and talk to God. My inner tapes are saying, " Thank you

God for giving me this gift, and I'm going to be a good steward of

this gift. I'm going to use it right to show my gratitude to You. "

Today as I ran, I invited God along with me. In my church, the

pastor has told us that God promises us nothing really—not a perfect

life, not riches, not fame—and I hardly have the perfect life. But

what God does promise is presence—Emanuel, God with us. So yes, I

have been alone and frightened in this journey, unsure of where my

path would lead, and where I would end up, but at every step of the

way, God has been there.

When I'm looking forward on my path, I can't see the Divine.

However, when I look back, I can see at every turn and bend of my

journey, God's hand has been on my shoulder, guiding me to the

happiness I now feel. And He's not only guided me, he has constantly

delighted me with surprises (like the torch at Lake Merritt). Today

on my run, I ran past poetry in the sidewalk. On the Embarcadero

there are literally poems embedded in the cement. I'd never noticed

that before.

One said something like this: " Once… everything was black plasma.

And now we see the product of Imagination. " I read it over and over

as I ran past it, then ran past it again. To me it meant that the

whole universe was once a blob of dark goop, but God's imagination

brought forth the loveliness of the Earth and the Universe. Just

like me: I was once this blob (or so I thought). I didn't think I

was worthy of anything, let alone love. But somehow, God lead me to

my job, which lead me to Kaiser, which lead to the Bariatric Program,

which gave me my life back. In retrospect I see how this path was

set forth for me, and yes, I had a small hand in it all (I like to

think of myself as God's partner in my life direction), but a series

of events was put into motion that led me out of the horrible self-

imposed prison of self-hatred.

At last, I felt, God heard my cries of pain, my silent years of

suffering. He gave me the key. The amazing thing I now realize is

that the key was in reach my whole life. I just never had the

courage to reach for it. But God's imagination was bigger than

mine. He knew that a different life was waiting for me.

So on my run today, I was again in conversation with God. And God

showed me new beauties again that I never would have seen had I not

been out running. I saw the sun rise over the Bay Bridge. I saw a

mother and father walking hand in hand with their daughter in

between, and the little girl was laughing and shrieking with joy as

they swung her to and fro. I smelled the ocean mist. I saw the

poetry in the cement. I saw the seabirds dancing in the fountains at

Levi's Plaza. I found yet another new path to run on by the Bay, and

I was alone on that path sharing it only with the blue sky, the sun

and God. I smelled the blooming Jasmine that was creeping up the

side of a fence. I saw the geese flying South past Alcatraz and over

the Bay Bridge. I saw " Cupid's Arrow, " the huge sculpture on the

Embarcadero, and understood its meaning for the first time. It's an

allusion to " I left my heart in San Francisco. " And that's why all

along Market Street and else where in the City there are hearts that

have been painted by artists.

And there it was again. Love. Love all around me. I know that the

endorphins were hitting me and putting me into a runner's euphoria,

but I pondered on how my life has been transformed by love. I have

finally let God's love in. I have finally let my love in. And I was

reminded of Psalm 23, where God's promise of presence is clearly

stated:

You, LORD, are my shepherd.

I will never be in need.

2You let me rest in fields

of green grass.

You lead me to streams

of peaceful water,

3and you refresh my life.

You are true to your name,

and you lead me

along the right paths.

4I may walk through valleys

as dark as death,

but I won't be afraid.

You are with me,

and your shepherd's rod makes me feel safe.

5You treat me to a feast,

while my enemies watch.

You honor me as your guest,

and you fill my cup

until it overflows.

6Your kindness and love

will always be with me

each day of my life,

and I will live forever

in your house, LORD.

Psalm 23 (Contemporary English Version)

Who knew exercise could be a prayer? Who knew that God's gifts of

love are everywhere around us? I certainly didn't, but now that I

do, my life will never be the same.

Merry Christmas everyone!

Francisco

December 24, 2005