It normally starts like this –
A social situation which finds us surrounded by a few channeling insecurity and social reticence. It could be a smaller group, around a restaurant table, or a scrum in someone’s kitchen. As others talk and engage, we are sized-up. Normally in the form of furtive glances, hoping we don’t catch them. Once the conversation begins to lag it is followed by a few excruciating seconds of heavy silence.
Almost everyone these days seems petrified of silence, so much so many talk to figure out what they think.
And then we arrive at the inevitable moment when one of them turns to us and starts babbling. How they never get a chance to workout, or that their latest diet is proving ineffective. Others will join in to support the babbler, dismissing anything that sounds like an impediment to so-called happiness, while re-iterating they are more than ok…just the way they are. “After all, life is hard and we do the best we can.”
About this point, we do our best to blank our expression and think about socks, oatmeal – anything that won’t betray any form of judgement. And right about the time we are ready to escape to another mind-numbing encounter group, or even better the bathroom, we’re intercepted by that ever-so-light touch on the arm, gentle but enough to convey our presence has yet to be properly dismissed. Then, at long last comes the question, the same one asked in many forms over the years but basically boiling down to this: What would we recommend as the best way to get started with an exercise regimen?
And then we’re hosed, stuck, no chance for escape, with multiple sets of eyes sheepishly rotating between shoes and the bottom of our chin. All waiting to hear what we might possibly say, so they can quickly forget it and likely laugh about it later. We used to take this question more seriously, wanting to be liked and accepted by those we didn’t know. We’d ask a few serious questions, and honestly try to impart some advice they might find useful. It took us years to realize most doing the asking were either intimidated – and didn’t know any other way to make polite conversation – or were being passively aggressive little trolls, having a snicker-worthy go at the aging jock.
But to be honest, back then we were lost, insecure ourselves, and more than a bit touchy. Doesn’t mean our perception was off.
At some point we realized there was only one real answer for all such questions, one that holds for any journey that has value and takes you out of a comfort zone.
HOW BAD DO YOU WANT IT? Six little words that can save so much time and energy, if those asking are honest enough with themselves.
Want to write a book? Compete in a hundred mile race? Become a great cook and have more people’s respect? Be a better spouse, parent and friend?
Again – How bad do you want it? Simply saying it is only the beginning. What should follow is stringent contemplation, sweat, and determination. Over days, weeks or years. It’s a never ending process because we, as humans, should never view, or think of ourselves, as finished.
Once they’ve had a taste of how difficult this path can be. many will quit. Declaring themselves unable to commit the time or mental fortitude required. Not only to work on themselves, but by doing so advance and organically evolve into sometimes unseen corners we can’t control.
After years of regret and emotional sputtering, we have come to ask ourself the six word question more times than we can possibly recall. How willing are we to work on that book? Or that one, elusively lyrical sentence? We have at times found ourselves not been up to the self-imposed rigor. Found ourself feeling bogged down, or tired. But through the process we’ve also learned to try and forgive our soul-constricting moments, and try again. Either the next hour, day, or the next time, wherever and whenever that might be.
Ours is a society driven by the need to ‘be.” Within a group dynamic and willing to sacrifice individual thought and accomplishment. Most never consider taking up anything that Can’t be shared, moment by moment, on Instagram, Twitter/X, Facebook or any other of the digital platforms. It’s become far too easy to let ourselves off the hook, because what the hell…everyone else does.
We are followers, in every malignant sense the word implies.
And so when we’re at these awkward gatherings, and toss the six words out to a particular group or person, the response is usually an earnest attempt to make sense of the question. “Well, I really need to do it, so I must want to do it, right?” This is almost always followed by a request for assistance…to work out together, or take a ride together. But training is not only working out with partner. Too often it devolves into another shortsighted form of social endeavour, and will at some point devolve into an empty vessel, one that is much easier to sluff off and abandon. This is not to say a workout buddy is a waste of time. Any reason someone decides to get moving is a worthy one.
But for us, training will always be a solitary journey. No one has ever been able to push us as hard as we push ourselves. We train to live, and at least for those two hours six days a week. All the while pushing to answer our own question – how much do we want it?
And then we ask ourselves again, the next day.