On an old treadmill in a tiny gym not far from my apartment.

Tuesday and Thursday nights.

While watching “Deadliest Catch.”
(We didn’t have cable)

After a while, in between the sporadic hauls of king crabs and my fears of flying off the back end, I began running.

Slowly.
Very slowly.

But running.

And what began this week, eleven years ago, unlike times before, stuck.

A few reasons come to mind.

My family needed a more healthy husband and daddy. That’s why I’m still running.

I needed the physical and mental help. That’s why I’m still running.

The church I’m at needed someone who taught spiritual discipline but didn’t neglect physical discipline. That’s why I’m still running.

There were amazing people to meet in my new hometown who shared the same passion and commitment. That’s why I’m still running.

But in all this, here’s the most important thing. None of these reasons makes me any better than anyone else. Believe me, there’s no “look at me” in this post, just a desire to take whatever small platform my life experience over the past few years has provided, and encourage others, especially those who have yet to experience the physical benefit that they desperately want.

It may not be running, but some other activity that gets you moving. Whatever it is, it’s never too late to start.

Maybe, like me, you’re late to the game. That’s OK. Just start.

Maybe, like me, you’ve tried before but fallen off the wagon. That’s OK. Just start again.

And maybe, like me, you’ve tried before, fallen off the wagon, started again, and fallen off the wagon again. That’s OK. Just start again, again.

Do-overs never expire.

Turn on the TV and put one foot in front of the other.

You can do it. You really can.