Around the same time, my daughter was accepted into a private theater troupe, which met 25 miles away from my home. These two changes in our lives are related because they both resulted in me being more physically active. Drama rehearsals lasted two hours, twice a week. It wasn't enough time to drive all the way back home, but it was the perfect amount of time to get a workout in. So, before taking my girl to drama, I would throw on my yoga pants, make sure I had the membership card I purchased for a nominal fee, and grab a water bottle to sip while I walked the track.
Twice a week, for two hours, I would walk briskly and listen to my playlists while I waited for her. It was a lovely, introspective time, and added a good chunk of activity to my life. Keep in mind, I had also taken on barre classes, which focus on isometric strength training. The 5:00 a.m. classes that were offered fit nicely in my day, because I could flex my muscles, get a little healing dose of girl talk, and still make it to work on time.
Before all of this happened, I was taking a short walk occasionally and sneaking in a Zumba class once a month or so. I definitely wasn't committed to exercising, so all of this added up to a significant lifestyle change for the better. I lost weight and felt great. For about six months.
Then, life happened, as it has a habit of doing. My daughter's drama season ran out, as did my membership to the community center. I still went to barre classes at 5:00 a.m., but it seemed like migraines, early-morning meetings, and late nights became more frequent- there was always a reason to turn off the alarm and buy back that hour of sleep I kept missing. I started averaging 1 or 2 classes a week at the barre studio.
You can probably guess what happened next. Yes, I put on a few of those pounds I had lost during those wonderfully active six months. I began to have this nagging thought process every time my alarm would sound at 4:23 a.m. and I would actually roll out of bed. As I awkwardly squeezed into my compression pants only to realize that they weren't compression pants at all, the thought occurred to me that the class I was about to take wouldn't do me any good, because I'd lost so much activity in the last few weeks.
It wouldn't do me any good unless I started walking again, changed my diet, and added some other kind of movement. What am I doing? Shouldn't I just quit? I would ask myself every. single. time.
"...won't do any good."
"Lifting weights won't do any good if you're not getting cardio in three times a week."
"Exercising won't do any good if you're not eating clean."
"Walking won't do any good if you don't get your heart rate up."
"Cutting out sugar won't do any good unless you watch your calories, too."
I'd heard it so many times, it became a part of my subconscious and was now invading my inner monologue. And not just at 4:23 in the morning. It also came when I was making dinner for my family. Most of the time when I prepare something fried, I'll make myself a salad instead. I have a special way of making my salad with rinsed frozen peas and dried cranberries and a blend of ranch and Greek dressings. Yum. I enjoy them and don't usually miss the fried food for dinner.
But one night, in the midst of the downward turn I was experiencing, I found myself thinking, That salad won't do me any good unless I get back into walking and going to barre four times a week, or do something else to replace those activities. I might as well just eat the chicken.
And so, I didn't take the time to make my salad that night. I did what was easy and made more sense-- I ate what everyone else was eating. The thing is, I really like my salads. But what was the point? It wouldn't do me any good anyway, right?
A couple of days later, the fresh spinach I would have used in my salad was wilted and brown, so I threw it away. I couldn't help but wonder as I watched the spinach fall into the trashcan with all the other garbage, Would it have done me any good? Any good at all? Because I think, maybe, it would have done me more good in my body than in the trash.
Let me tell you what really won't do you any good. It won't do you any good to give up your twenty-minute workout session because someone told you twenty minutes isn't enough. It won't do you any good to keep smoking a pack a day because you heard that the only way to help yourself is to quit completely. It won't do you any good to do NOTHING when you could do SOMETHING.
Do the something.
Take the free introductory kickboxing class even if you never plan to go back, go for a run when your friend asks you to even if you have to walk, trade in the sweet tea for half unsweet, give up that last cigarette of the day, skip that midnight snack and go back to sleep, put down the cheeseburger when you feel full.
Striving for perfection is admirable, but progress... progress IS perfection. Small steps are something to get excited about. To be proud of. Even if it is one healthy decision a day, take those small steps in the right direction, and don't listen to that voice seeming to speak reason in your ear, chiming "It won't do any goo-oood," because that just isn't true.
Photo by Steve Halama on Unsplash
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