Moderate exercise has become my new mantra. Achieving this balance took considerable time, as society often rewards high achievers and intense dedication. Each time I step into the gym—maybe every couple of weeks—the manager, a genuinely kind individual, greets me with a wry smile, saying, “Good to see you again, Jamie.” I understand the implication; my sporadic presence makes me akin to a gym ghost. I’m a bit out of shape, somewhat of a scavenger, and while I might not frequent the gym, my occasional appearances don’t surprise anyone. Initially, this made me feel guilty, but not anymore. In fact, I’ve come to realize that this more relaxed approach to fitness signifies that I’ve finally grasped what truly matters in maintaining health.
My Early Struggles
Let me elaborate. As a child, I was quite active, yet during my college years, I traded sports for a passionate love affair with cigarettes. I adored smoking, fully aware of its detrimental effects. In the ’80s, smoking was prevalent among my peers, and it became a defining characteristic of my identity. If you knew me, you knew me as a smoker. Consequently, I was far from athletic; the thought of running a mile felt as daunting as scaling Everest. Attempting it would have likely required medical assistance.
Once I quit smoking, I was eager to utilize my newfound lung capacity and improve my cardiovascular health. I enrolled in a five-mile race, full of enthusiasm but lacking strategy. My initial attempt was chaotic; I started too quickly and gasped for breath before reaching the first mile. The race became a cycle of sprinting and gasping, a torturous experience. However, crossing the finish line filled me with euphoria—I had completed it!
Finding My Pace
Emboldened, I signed up for more races and gradually learned to pace myself. The miles became less excruciating, and I even increased my speed. Yet, I faced a dilemma: I still didn’t enjoy running. In truth, I loathed it. To compensate for my training efforts, I would reward myself with a “break,” which ironically meant doing almost nothing until the guilt of inactivity prompted me to sign up for another race. This pattern was not sustainable.
After having children, I believed that setting a more ambitious target would help me shed the baby weight and regain motivation. Thus, I registered for a sprint triathlon, joined a women’s training group, purchased a bicycle, and attended transition classes. I incorporated interval training and brick workouts into my routine.
On the day of the triathlon, despite experiencing a panic attack during the swim, my training paid off—I performed better than anticipated, feeling strong and fit. Who wouldn’t relish that feeling? Immediately, I signed up for another triathlon. However, the next race was a year away. Without an upcoming challenge, I slipped back into my old habits, indulging in M&M’s and potato chips, and allowing my workout gear to collect dust. Each spring, I found myself at square one once again, repeating this cycle of triathlons while giving myself less time to train, ultimately growing resigned to my post-race inactivity.
Redefining Fitness
As time passed, I began to dread my workouts. Any exercise I managed to incorporate into my busy life, filled with kids, work, and responsibilities, became overshadowed by my inability to maintain a consistent fitness routine. Each race served as a reminder of my failures rather than my accomplishments. The last few races I completed required sheer determination to finish, and I was merely relieved when they ended.
A couple of years ago, I made the decision to stop signing up for races altogether. I canceled my gym membership and gained 10 pounds. I accepted the notion that perhaps I simply wasn’t meant to be an athlete.
And that’s accurate—I’m not an athlete. The misunderstanding lay in my belief that fitness necessitated competing in races and accumulating medals. However, I don’t need that validation. As a person in my mid-40s, I’ve recognized that I’ve never truly been an athlete, although I’ve been fortunate enough to possess a body that can manage some physical activity if I choose. Ultimately, the purpose of exercise is to maintain health, and I can achieve that through everyday choices, such as taking the stairs or incorporating walking into my routine. I also enjoy activities like attending yoga classes, walking with friends, jogging in the park when the weather permits, and occasionally making time for an hour at the gym. While this approach might not earn me accolades or sculpted abs, it fulfills my primary goal of sustaining my health for many more decades. Paradoxically, doing less has alleviated the stress I once associated with working out, making it the ideal regimen for me.
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Conclusion
In summary, my journey to moderate exercise has emphasized the importance of balance over competition. Accepting my non-athletic identity has allowed me to prioritize enjoyment and health over accolades, ultimately leading to a more sustainable and fulfilling approach to fitness.
Keyphrase: moderate exercise journey
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