David Taylor Gonzales

What’s the difference?

I love to run. As I approach year three of this journey, I look back at what running meant to me when I started: weight loss, a proving ground where I could test my own toughness, a way to reconnect with my physical self.

Now, as a father of 2 (my first wasn’t born yet when I hopped on the treadmill for the first time back in 2023) running means something entirely different. I don’t run to test my worth, my toughness, my resolve. I don’t run to lose weight anymore. I run because it is what my body was made for. When my legs turn over, even on the worst of a cold January morning, even when I think, “you’re out of your mind being out here.” I am certain that I am doing what my body was made to do.

I am not a gifted athlete. I never made my high school baseball team even though I tried out three years in a row. I played one year of middle school basketball. I loved football but realized I was too small for it after 8th grade. I gave up on soccer when I was 5. I tried skateboarding but was too afraid of broken bones to try anything riskier than a kick-flip on the sidewalk (I cannot do a kick-flip). I’m not a talented runner. I’m not chasing a Boston qualifying time, I’m not winning any local races in my area. But as I’ve gotten older I’ve learned that what I am willing to be disciplined and put my best effort into matters more than whether I am naturally gifted at the pursuit itself. Maybe somewhere deep inside me is a very talented but undiscovered powerlifter or gymnast (though I doubt it). But that’s not what I have become. I’m a runner. Not by good genetics, but by discipline and choice.

I wish I knew in high school what I know now about my body and about my own physiology. I wish 16 year old me could feel the endorphins after a tough threshold workout. I wish 22 year old me had fallen in love with the physical exertion and the early wake up calls on long run days the way 27 year old me did. But this post isn’t about regret. This is about how blessed I have been to discover something I’m passionate about.

I do not know if I’m one of the lucky ones or if I’m late to the party but I’m thankful that I discovered what my body is made for. Running is my form of worship to God. For me it is the physical embodiment of what the author of Hebrews wrote: “Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us…”

So what’s the difference between purpose and meaning? When I think of those two concepts philosophically, I think “purpose” is a utilitarian pursuit and “meaning” is more abstract and existential. Purpose asks the question, “what is ___ used for?” Meaning asks, “why does ___ exist?” In running and in my life in general, I have found that being fulfilled in my work and personal life has come from discovering what makes me feel useful. I like feeling like I am good at something, especially if that something benefits another person. As an example, I love when I perform well at work. I feel like I’m effectively serving my clients but I also feel like I am providing for my family. It’s much the same with my physical body. What is the purpose for my legs? For my heart? My cardiovascular system? Maybe this answer is too simplistic or maybe I just haven’t discovered the full depth of the answer yet, but I believe the answer is to run. Finding that purpose for my body has helped shape me into the kind of husband father and man I want to be.

The question that I don’t want to try to answer is “why do I exist?” This is not because the answer scares me, rather, it’s because the answer is already solidified in Jesus Christ. I exist to live in right relationship with God and the people in my life. By Jesus’ death and resurrection I can be restored to a right relationship with God and live in loving obedience to Him. That is the answer to the existential question of my life. Running, lifting, even my family, cannot answer that question sufficiently on their own. Without Jesus, life is a long-suffered tragedy with no redemption. Because of Jesus, my life, despite the suffering, has sweetness like nothing I’ve ever known.

There’s a reason why the world seems to fall away so effortlessly when I’m running. It’s not because it requires intense focus. It’s because on most days, the morning run represents the intersection where God in heaven meets me on Earth. I watch the sun rise in the eastern sky at least three days per week. I see Him greet our little town in Missouri with a smattering of purple clouds, a light moisture in the air and in the grass, a little fog if we’re lucky. Even when most of us are asleep or too busy drowsily pouring coffee to look out the window, He gives us these incredible blessings anyway. He loves us in spite of our indifference.

Keep Going!