What I Learned From Trying (and Failing) to Out-Walk Jesus
In the last month, I’ve walked 8–10 miles a day, reversed prediabetes, raised my testosterone, tightened my waistline, and rebuilt my whole damn life.
And I STILL can’t keep up with Jesus — a man who casually walked 15–20 miles a day in sandals across rugged terrain.
Here’s what I learned from trying (and failing) to out-pace the Son of Man.
By Ian Primmer - CommonX
There’s something both humbling and hilarious about spending an entire month grinding out 8–10 miles a day — sweating on treadmills, pounding pavement, scrambling between railroad shifts, dentist appointments, gym sessions, and podcast work — only to realize… I still can’t out-walk Jesus. Not even close.
I’ve been on a total transformation arc lately. A real one. I wake up every day and go HARD — treadmill, elliptical, more steps, more miles, more cardio, more discipline than I’ve had in years. And you know what? It’s worked.
✔ I reversed prediabetes
✔ My testosterone clearly went up
✔ My waistline shrank
✔ I feel healthier, stronger, faster
✔ My confidence surged
✔ My marriage heated up
✔ People in the gym literally look twice now
But then I looked at the historical record of Jesus’ daily mileage… And man… I suddenly felt like a beginner all over again.
The Reality Check: Jesus Was Basically David Goggins in Sandals
Historians estimate Jesus walked:
15–20 miles per day. EVERY. DAY.
Across:
rugged terrain
brutal heat
mountain paths
desert roads
ancient uneven rocks
No treadmill. No cooling fans. No Nike Air Max cushioning. No Quick Dry moisture-wick socks. No Apple Watch. No electrolyte gummies.
Just leather sandals and purpose.
Meanwhile, I’m over here sweating like a sinner in July trying to squeeze in 8 miles before my dentist appointment.
My Month of Monster Mileage
Let’s be honest — I’ve been putting in WORK:
7–10 miles daily
12–14 standing hours
15,000–18,000 steps
120–150 minutes of cardio
treadmill + elliptical combos
calorie burns rivaling marathon training
I’ve watched numbers change. I’ve watched my body change. I’ve watched my MIND change.
This transformed me. But the deeper lesson wasn’t about miles… It was about discipline, consistency, and humility.
What I Learned From Trying (and Failing) to Out-Walk Jesus
1. The Body Records What the Mind Honors
Once I committed, my body responded. Fast. Stronger legs, smaller waist, cleaner blood sugar — it all happened.
2. Consistency Beats Intensity
Jesus didn’t “train.” He just walked every day. And that routine shaped His strength. Same with me.
3. Modern Life Softens Us
Even with cushioned shoes and gyms everywhere, we are nowhere near the durability of ancient people. That’s not an insult. It’s an opportunity.
4. Movement Is Spiritual
Walking clears your head. It opens your heart. It centers your spirit. It pulls your life back into alignment. No wonder Jesus did it constantly.
5. You Don’t Have to Out-Walk Jesus — Just Show Up Like He Did
The point isn’t mileage. It’s showing up every day with purpose, humility, and heart. That’s what changes you.
If Jesus Had an Apple Watch…
That thing would’ve exploded. It would’ve been like:
“STOP. YOU HAVE CLOSED YOUR RINGS UNTIL APRIL.”
or
“Congratulations, you have completed 2 months of cardio today.”
The Takeaway
I tried to out-walk Jesus. I failed beautifully.
Because the real win wasn’t beating His miles —
it was meeting myself.
It was waking up every day with intention. It was fighting for my health. It was reclaiming my discipline. It was rebuilding my body and my spirit. It was walking toward the version of me I almost forgot existed.
And that, brothers and sisters… feels holy in its own way.
Life on the Road: Finding Balance Between Motion and Meaning
The road doesn’t wait for anyone. It hums, it breathes, and it teaches — one faded mile marker at a time. Somewhere between the hotel treadmills and neon gas station lights, I realized balance isn’t something you find; it’s something you build in motion.
(An X-Files Original — CommonX Podcast)
By Ian Primmer | CommonX Podcast
The road has a rhythm all its own. It doesn’t care who you are or what you’re chasing — it just rolls on, mile after mile, testing your patience, your habits, and your resolve. Out here, comfort isn’t an option. You learn to live out of a duffel bag, fuel up on protein shakes, and find meaning in the miles that nobody else sees.
For some, the road is an escape. For others, it’s survival. For me, it’s both.
Every late-night gym session, every walk through a strange city, every quiet meal in a parking lot is a reminder that balance doesn’t come from rest — it comes from showing up when nobody’s watching.
The people who live life on the road — truck drivers, touring musicians, dreamers chasing paychecks across state lines — we share something deeper than wanderlust. It’s that quiet grind. That inner voice that says, keep moving.
There’s peace in the repetition. The hum of the tires, the white noise of the highway, the glow of a hotel treadmill’s digital readout — they become meditations. You start to measure progress not in distance, but in discipline.
When you live on the road, you realize that freedom and structure aren’t opposites — they’re partners.
The road strips you down to what matters. It makes you honest. And somewhere between exhaustion and purpose, you find yourself again.