In late February, I stopped using the “blue” parking at my school. This bothered some people, which made me chuckle every time I got into my Honda. They kept asking me, one eyebrow raised, “Why are you parking in the last spot now, the farthest spot from the building? What are you trying to do, Nika?” I wasn’t sure why they were worried about it.
The truth about the parking was: I liked being outside for a few minutes in the morning air. It wasn’t a big deal.
But it became kind of a big deal. Especially when I started climbing the staircases. The first time I did it, I made it up to the second floor and back down to the first in a huffing, puffing mess. My thighs were on fire the next day; I could hardly sit down without just collapsing into the chair. But I did it again. And again. And pretty soon, I was setting my stopwatch to climb up and down five minutes during lunch. A couple weeks later it was ten minutes before school and ten during lunch. Then it was fifteen before school and thirty after school. People were bothered, indeed. First the parking, then the staircases. What was I up to? They wanted to know.
The truth about the staircases was bifold: I was trying to increase my stamina and strength for a trike I planned to buy AND because I liked making those teachers raise their eyebrows. My real friends on campus didn’t care. They just tried not to trip me when they passed on the left.
Today I climbed twenty-seven flights from the basement to the roof of my building and back down without stopping. I did it yesterday, too. Listen, you can spend all the time you want on a stairmaster in a gym, but there is something magical and supremely rewarding about turning on landing after landing in a flourescent-tinged, musty stairwell and then finally seeing a shaft of sunlight fall on that last brick wall. You’re there.
One of my favorite verses is Psalm 147:10-11, “His pleasure is not in the strength of the horse, nor his delight in the legs of a man; the LORD delights in those who fear him, who put their hope in his unfailing love.” I was thinking about that one as I fell to my pillow after the climb. Who cares what we can or can’t do? Who cares! I can’t run or jump or ride a standard bike or rollerskate (miss that one) or swim with smooth coordination anymore, but who cares?! And even if I couldn’t climb stairs, if my disability had prevented it, who cares about that, either? I would have picked something else.
The thing God really seems to care about is the condition of our hearts, and keeping our hearts in shape is the hardest work of all. But the reality is that the condition of my body is a reflection of the condition of my heart, because it is with the great courage and fortitude found in our hearts that we discipline ourselves to move our bodies.
I don’t know, I just say use what you have while you have it. And if you haven’t moved today … get up.