My American Gladiators Name Is ARSENAL

On my quest to recover from a month's stay in the hospital, run a marathon in May, bike from Canada to Mexico this summer and compete on the new American Gladiators in '09, I've been doing a lot of research on diet and fitness to maximize my eating and exercising so that I can be ripped like the guys from the movie, 300. To sum it all up, pretty much everyone tells you to expend more than you consume, eat your veggies, and do stuff that makes you sore (Duh). During my internet meanderings in search of said healthful wisdom, I've run across many plans including Getting Ripped Like Jason Statham In 6 Weeks, Workout Like Genghis Khan, and Lifting Heavy Stuff. The one that Mark and I have most closely (maybe loosely) adhered to is the TNT Diet and Exercise Plan. TNT stands for Targeted Nutrition Tactics. The paradigm TNT pushes is that calories, fat and carbs aren't bad like everyone makes them out to be, but rather employing them at the proper time is essential. The key is to get your body to draw from your fat stores and use up carbs before they can turn into new fat while building lots of muscle. This is done by eating a lot of protein and only eating carbs around weight lifting time and on refuel days, or as Mark and I like to call them, "shock days." Admittedly, the shock days are what drew us to this particular program, because you can do nothing and eat whatever you want 1 or 2 days a week. We've adapted the TNT a bit by adding workouts, racquetball, running, Ultimate, and being a little less (okay, sometimes a lot less) strict on our diet and are calling it the TMNT plan. We're not sure exactly what TMNT stands for yet, but we figure it's gotta be a gooder if it shares an acronym with the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. It's been pretty sweet so far. I've gained about 6 lbs. of muscle and Mark's gone down a few percentages in body fat in our month of doing the TMNT.

At 4 this morning, when I was suddenly wide awake, I was hit with a little godly wisdom on the TNT for the heart/spirit. I can’t speak for everyone, but I can confidently say that I am spiritually obese and it's been getting worse. Before I lose you trying to visualize what that looks like, let me explain what I mean. From the time I was a wee lad, I’ve been fed in church and at home with tons of Bible knowledge and theology. I can rattle off lots of Bible verses, I know the popular theology on mission, discipleship and worship, and have read all the “cool” modern spiritual books. Oh yeah, I’ve been fillin up on the “spiritual carbs” for years. The problem is my consumption of spiritual calories has grossly outweighed my expenditure. What I end up with is a weak spirit with a nice, round and pudgy pride-gut, scarcely ready to move with God’s cadence. I am found breathing heavily with my hands on my hips when it’s time to be running the race as to win.

I think the carbs of the spirit are the words, commands and wisdom of God. Just as the TNT points out, carbs must be used up in a timely manner, or they will turn into fat. If we aren’t acting on God’s voice, His words get stored away as fatty knowledge instead of being fuel for the muscles of faith, hope and love. As 1 Corinthians 8:1 says, “Knowledge puffs up.” Bit by bit, we’re more insulated from the presence of God and embarrassed to show our spiritual body when summer rolls around. For example, you might ask me what the most important commands of God are, and I would nonchalantly reply with “love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, mind and strength” and “Love your neighbor as yourself.” I’ve had plenty of caloric intake in these areas. I’ve brainstormed ways to be an agent of change in my community. I’ve gone through plenty of hypothetical situations in my mind on what I would do if someone asked me for help in some way. I’ve even prayed many times to be used in people’s lives around me. So what’s the problem? I honestly do not know any of my neighbors. Not a single one. I’m embarrassed to admit that. Sure, I can avoid having loud parties, keep my lawn trimmed (ehem), wave from across the street and even be tolerant of the loud mariachi music from down the street at 2 a.m. That kind of “love” for my neighbors is hardly life-changing, if even noticed. Must I have more depth of interaction with them before I can practically love and serve them?

I too often find myself jumping at the chance to fill up at a spiritual buffet multiple times a week, but usually get sweaty palms and a dry throat at the thought of walking 25 feet to my neighbors’ door to introduce myself and invite them over for dinner. Sick and wrong. SICK and WRONG. My priorities are grotesquely unhealthy. I’m the fat guy at McDonalds with the tray full of double cheeseburgers who has trouble fitting through doors. Why does my supposed “abundant life” result in a double chin, love handles and chicken legs instead of huge biceps, chiseled abs and runner’s calves? Truth be told, I dream of being a mighty warrior in God’s kingdom. I want to do amazing things. But just as running a marathon, biking across the U.S., or competing on American Gladiators (I’m kind of joking about that one… kind of) takes months of repeating motions and cross training, I have to practice one act of obedience after another until I am powerfully joining God in his redemption of the world and battling the forces of darkness.

So, right now, I am committing to go on the spiritual TNT diet and exercise plan. It’s time to let the Spirit burn away all the excess that keeps me from living and enjoying the rhythm of God. Part of that is walking to my neighbors’ house today, not tomorrow, and inviting them over for dinner. Goodbye love handles.