Tuesday, January 22, 2008

Feeling the burn

I've never really enjoyed running. It's easy to admire those that do, but I am just not one of them. I hear lots of stories from friends about how wonderful it is during a good run to feel the adrenaline pumping and break through that wall and get runner's high. However, I have yet to experience such a phenomenon. While it is true that I am just plain lazy at times, a better explanation might be that throughout my life, running has equaled punishment, which I think dates back to playing team sports growing up. Mouth off, you run laps. Don't give max effort, run laps. Accidentally wear a purple fleece to school because you think it's blue, well, you get the picture. This has always been my mindset, so I've never actually gained any pleasure from this activity. The closest I've come is when I am done, it is glorious to know I don't have to run again until the next day.

Sadly, this aversion to running transferred to any form of physical activity that wasn't directly related to playing sports, particularly working out at the gym. I've never been able to enjoy that much either. Always seemed like more of a chore than an activity. That is until recently. About eight months ago, my friend Tony Capone convinced me that I needed to get back in shape in order to increase my desirability with the opposite sex. As much as I didn't feel like it, I knew that it was probably necessary. Or maybe I just assume all women are as shallow as I am. Hopefully not, but I decided to plan for the worst.

After two months, nothing much had changed. Aside from the marginal returns I was seeing, I still had yet to find that intrinsic motivation to transform myself into a 21st century Adonis for any reason besides making myself more competitive in the meat market that is Provo dating. Then, something happened. Actually, it wasn't really any one thing in particular. One by one, everything that I had been planning on for so long seemed to change. As I took inventory of my life, I came to realize that I had very little control over anything. Landlords can throw your stuff out for no good reason. Jobs can be lost at anytime. People you love don't have to love you back. In fact, the only aspect of life that I felt in complete control of was going to the gym and working out. Nobody could stop me from doing that. It became the one constant in my daily routine. I would go when I felt great, and I would go when I felt terrible. I would go when I was happy, and I would go when I felt things couldn't get any worse. There is a direct correlation between the effort I put in and the results that come. That is a beautiful thing.

That point of epiphany was about five months ago, and I'm still going strong. Sure there are days when I'd rather be doing something else, but I just have to remind myself that there aren't many things as controllable as this. Be thankful for the ones that are. Now, if only dating were so simple.

2 comments:

Ben said...

This is kind of like the parable of the gardener. We are given a small plot of land to tend, and then, if our vegetables win the county fair competition, we are given the entire garden to watch over. So basically you're saying your pumpkins are growing plump and now you're ready for little red riding hood to waltz into your azure fields of grain and make out with you? Just curious.

Seriously, We should realize that we have control over a very small part of what happens to us: Our thoughts.

Sow a thought, reap an action. Sow an action, reap a habit. Sow a habit, reap a character. Sow a character, reap a destiny.

Jill said...

so are you saying my life will change now that i am coming to the gym with you? (i know that is not what you are saying, but i hope it is true, and i hope the change is for the better.)