We tend to spoil any good thing, human as we are. We turn the gifts of God into coping mechanisms, just like I did wine, and we do it with any old gift. Consider my friend Rich, a good and right man whom I consider the paragon of health. He’s a runner, and a darned good one at that.
But one morning over coffee he confessed. “After a stressful day, after a day when I feel like an imposter or a failure or like I’m measuring up short, I put on my shoes and run till I puke.” “Why?” I said, jerking upright, cocking my head to the side. “Maybe I’m trying to cope by doing something I’m good…
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