Losing My Religion

I was in church last week (yes, Dad, I went to church) thinking about the turkey breast I had in the oven at home and trying to remember whether I had put the meat thermometer in it or not, when I heard the minister drive down my alley. It was the sermon and I'll admit it, I had tuned out a little. I was hungry. I needed to go to Target and get flash cards for my personal trainer studies. I wanted to go get my jammies back on and watch HGTV.

But he was making some good points. The topic was recognizing the difference between being "spiritual" and being "religious," how people define those terms for themselves, and how we act in response to those definitions. The nitty and gritty of it was that the difference between being spiritual and being religious came down to how disciplined you are willing to be to actualize your beliefs into your life, i.e. not be a hypocrite. In short, saying you are "spiritual but not religious," is an easy way to explain that you enjoy having a spiritual life but aren't all crazy-preacher-on-the-street about it, it's also kind of a cop-out. I know I feel that way about wellness.

There have been times in my life when I have been "spritual" about wellness and manifested it by making healthier choices, going for a morning run, doing a split weight routine three days a week, and choosing low-fat frozen yogurt on my Chocolate Thunder From Down Under instead of real ice cream. Then there have been times when I have been "religious." I challenged myself to take the hilly running route, I lifted heavy and pushed the reps beyond what felt comfortable, I ate clean all of the time and never missed a workout. There have also been times when I've been an outright heathen. That would be Mardi Gras.

And there have been times when I have been the crazy preacher on the street. Some would say that would be every day but they have no idea just how crazy I can get about this stuff.

So I was sitting there, perked up a little and assuming the turkey would be fine, and I realized that I missed being the crazy preacher on the street. I spend so much time coaching people through the baby steps of getting well that I started taking baby steps myself. I had gotten spiritual and realized I wanted to be religious again.

I don't want to just run, I want to run up rocky hills in the rain. I don't want to weight train, I want to weightLIFT. I don't want to just preach to people about a healthy diet, I want to live my own message every day to the power of 150. Thinking about the distinction between those two words reminded me that I can, I have, I should, and that the hour I had just passed sitting on my butt in church could have been spent working out. I mean, can't we at least do walking lunges down the aisle for communion?

Eventually church was over and I did end up spending the rest of the day in my jammies watching HGTV and preparing all of my clean eats for the week and welcoming myself back to the world of wellness evangelism. Don't worry, I'm not going to thump your head with a Bible...I'm one of those wishy-washy church goers myself. But I might thump you with a tupperware full of spinach cuz crazy is back baby.

Amen.