Running Late. Running Low. Running Away?

I was doing really well with my running last year. Most weeks I was out 4-5 times and I was fitter than I’d been for years. I was on track for a new PB for 10K in January and have even signed up for my first half marathon in May 2026.

As we set off for a week in Jamaica (I know, such a hard life!) I brought my running shoes, even if I knew heat and safety on the roads would not be conducive to running. I did manage one time on a treadmill, which reminded me how boring it is to move for a long time and never getting anywhere. On a stop-over in London, I was out running twice ignoring jet-lag and was encouraged that my fitness hadn’t dropped.

And then… life happened

Turned out I hadn’t just come home with a tan, but also shingles. A quick Google confirmed what my body already knew: running wasn’t recommended — and even if it had been, I didn’t feel remotely up for it.

A week later I had a planned minor surgery, and was told not to exercise for a week or so. Then came a mountain retreat: beautiful, yes — but hilly roads, poor sleep, and everything else meant no running there either.

Three weeks passed. Shingles had calmed, surgery had gone well, and there was technically no reason not to get back out. Except… long days, busy evenings, study, deadlines. Then the temperature dropped. Then it rained. Then it was Christmas. Now it’s a new year.

And I still haven’t gone running.

I wonder if this is where some of us are in our faith journey too. We were committed, involved, growing — genuinely enjoying church life and finding meaning in it — and then life happened.

Some years ago, it might have been Covid that got in the way — but it could be almost anything that takes our time, energy, and focus. None of it bad. Just life — and plenty of it. We tell ourselves it’s only for a while. We’ll be back to our good habits — back to church, back to prayer, back to what is important to us.

Of course, we still think of ourselves as Christians. Still see ourselves as part of a church. But if we’re honest… it is becoming more theory than practice.

As I sat with all this, I began to see three patterns — or maybe stages — we might find ourselves in. Different places on the same journey. Maybe you can recognise yourself in one — or more —of these.

Maybe you’re the one who used to run — but somewhere along the way, you stopped.

Somewhere along the way, you stopped. Nothing dramatic — just life, drift, a few missed Sundays that turned into months. And if you're honest, your daily life with Jesus probably isn’t quite as vibrant or regular as it used to be.

Of course you haven’t renounced your faith. You still believe it matters. You still believe that faith should be lived out in community — that church is important. But life has happened and somehow you got out of the habit. Of course, one day you will get back into it — or so you tell yourself.

The real question is not what you ought to do, but who do you want to be? And will what you are doing — or not doing — take you in that direction? 

‘One day’ is dangerous. It keeps us in a kind of fantasy, while slowly moving us further away from where and who we want to be. Maybe that is why the Bible tells us that ‘today’ is the day of salvation (2. Cor. 6:2). 

So why not text a friend from church and ask if they’re around for a coffee after the service next Sunday? And if that feels like too big a step, just ask if they’d like to meet for coffee some other day. No pressure. Just connection. Just today.

(And don’t fall into the trap of saying you’ll do it tomorrow. “Tomorrow” is just another way of saying “one day.”)

Who used to sit near you, serve with you, chat over coffee — but hasn’t been around for a while? Why not give them a call or send a message? Suggest a coffee, a round of golf, watching a game — whatever fits your relationship. You might hesitate, not wanting to come across as pushy. But chances are, life just happened to them. And your simple invitation might be the nudge they’ve been waiting for.

Oh, and don’t leave it forone day!

Paul warns us that“if you think you are standing firm, be careful that you don’t fall”(1 Corinthians 10:12).

I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t have stopped running if I’d had someone to run with — even just once a week. Knowing someone was waiting for me, counting on me, would have “forced” me to put my shoes on and get out there.

But really, it wouldn’t be forcing. It would be helping — helping me to keep doing what I actuallywantto do.

There are many ways to build that kind of connection. But simply attending a worship service — even every week — probably isn’t one of them.

Don’t just assume you’re standing firm.