Maintenance

My Achilles heel? Maintenance. This is a recent epiphany for me. Or maybe just the discovery of the word that best fits my most constant struggle. But it's come to a head in the last couple weeks with my attempts at an old habit: running.
I was blessed with a voracious metabolism. The only nickname I've ever acquired came from my sister when she started calling me Ribs sometime in junior high. Like any younger brother being called names it infuriated me, in part because she was teasing me and in part because she was right and I couldn't do anything about it. I could have eaten all day and night and never gained a pound. Long story short: not anymore. So I started running last week. It's been terrible. Any given day until I was 24 I could go out and run 3-4 miles. Nope. Not now. But the running's not even the worst. The worst is maintaining it. Maintaining my physical husk. Maintaining the energy and the memory to go out and do it. I'm not quite sure or the nature of this struggle, but I'm fairly certain I will always carry it with me.
Here are the things I hate to maintain, in no particular order:
Clean dishes
Clean clothes
Clean house
Teeth
Friendships
Personal hygiene
Church
Physical fitness
Yard
Dog's fitness

Pretty nasty list. And really it's longer I'm sure. I'm really only decent at maitaining a couple of things. Marriage and parenthood. And I think those are easy because for me they offer somethig different everyday. Unlike the dishes.

Maybe I need to start running different routes everyday.