The problem with setting goals, be they work, relationship, or fitness goals, is that life happens, and when it does, things change. Week three and four were a disappointment. I developed a minor back injury, a pulled muscle, and rather than hit the pause button for a couple of days and rehabilitate, I kept training hard. After an especially inspired leg day, I woke up the next morning and made the foolhardy decision to put on a pair of pants. My back spasmed, and I was stuck to the dresser, unable to stand up, sit down, and for what felt like a very long time, breathe without severe pain.
I got the hint.
I started to rehab the injury with Epsom salt baths, partial movements combined with mild stretching, and I made good use of a tens unit, my wife’s capable hands and elbows to massage out the evil, and I drank an obscene amount of water to flush toxins and fully hydrate so as not to aggravate the situation. I had planned on a couple of days, but the back pain shenanigans stretched out for the better part of two weeks.
And so this week, refreshed and renewed, I started all over again at what felt like zero.
So I won’t reach my goal of being in the best shape of my entire life for my 67th birthday, but that doesn’t mean I’m giving up on the process. This was never about reaching some mythical goal no one cared about but me, driven by ego and pride. It was a fun challenge that I had hoped would inspire someone out there to do the uncomfortable thing, to push themselves and adopt a lifestyle that includes fitness and healthy eating. I hoped that if I could do it at sixty-seven years old, someone would feel inspired to make a healthy, positive change in their life.
Truth is, I will be in the best shape of my life very soon, but it’s not because that’s the finish line. It’s because I am training as hard now as I ever have and I intend to continue doing so, like I always have, until the Lord calls me home.
There may be more setbacks, but I am not stopping. I will rehab, then do whatever I am able to find a way back again.
I’m not trying to cheat death or not accept the aging process. Each day, I am one day closer to death, like all of us, but I see no value in working hard to expedite the process, to diminish my quality of life by gaining a bunch of weight, eating foods and drinking things that are not good for my body, and filling my time doing nothing of value to me, my family, or anyone else.
As long as I am breathing, my cells are metabolizing nutrients, and my muscles will adapt to hard work by becoming stronger, along with increased endurance, flexibility, and mobility. If I feed my body foods that enhance function and performance rather than foods that my body has to fight to process with additives that are toxic and overwork my vital organs and compromise my immune system, then my quality of life will be much better.
God gave me this body. The Holy Spirit lives inside this body with me. I have a responsibility to obey his direction, to respect and care for this body. It’s not always easy, it’s not always convenient or fun, but it is my responsibility to do it in obedience to God, and to teach my children to do the same.
Today I took the time to warm up, stretch, and prepare my body for the workout I had planned. Like I should have done before I got the back injury. Then I went to work, trained hard and quickly with very little rest in between sets. It felt really good to put in the work, and it was just enough to make progress without being so sore that I can’t train tomorrow.
And that is the process. Make a plan, train, recover, and evaluate, then start it all over the next day. Setbacks may come, and if they do, make a plan, train, recover, and evaluate, then do it all over again the next day.
It’s about fitness and health becoming the way we live our lives, rather than something we do for a while to reach a goal.
