Slow down, you crazy child
Slow down, you crazy child
Listen to this post:
-2:10
My workouts have changed.
I’m not as fast as I used to be. I’m not hitting the gym or the road every day.
And I’m starting to think I like it.
Slow down, you crazy childYou're so ambitious for a juvenileBut then if you're so smartTell me why are you still so afraid? MmWhere's the fire, what's the hurry about?You'd better cool it off before you burn it outYou've got so much to doAnd only so many hours in a day, hey**
Somewhere along this path to wellness, I started to believe each workout had to be faster, harder, and better than the one before. I went from being a couch potato to eventually pushing myself to exercise daily. And when I did workout, it was always to the point where I'd feel worn out.
Slow down, you're doin' fineYou can't be everything you wanna be before your timeAlthough it's so romantic on the borderline tonight, tonightToo bad, but it's the life you leadYou're so ahead of yourself, that you forgot what you needThough you can see when you're wrongYou know you can't always see when you're right**
Somehow, my body endured a lot of this punishment--and that's what it was, honestly. I may not have realized it then, but now I recognize I had to "outwork" the shame I felt over my size and lack of energy for much of anything.
At first, I felt I had something to prove to the others on the road or at the gym that I belonged despite all that.
The reality? I was trying to convince myself.
I'd make a lot of progress and then my body would cry out for a break the only way it knew how--injury.
As I recovered, I promised myself, my family, my physical therapist, my coach (and whoever would listen) that I'd be more careful "next time."
I believed my aches and pains were the natural consequences of being active and morbidly obese. Eventually, things would improve...as long as I kept working.
We've all heard the popular definition of insanity--doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different outcome.
I was living that definition every day.
A torn meniscus last winter and an MRI showing significant osteoarthritis in the same knee took me out of commission for quite a while. Lots of forced rest and a series of injections gave me time to think.
Slow down, you crazy childAnd take the phone off the hook and disappear for a whileIt's all right, you can afford to lose a day or two, oohWhen will you realize Vienna waits for you?**
For a few months, I thought this might be the end of the road for me. If I couldn't go back to how things were before, how would I improve the way I wanted? How would I reach my goals?
What were those goals? I honestly can't even say now. To be faster? To do multiple races in a month? I have no idea anymore.
I do know my previous self-improvement ideas drove me to cycles of injury, frustration, and feeling like a yo-yo with no progress.
So now, my workouts are different than they used to be. They are less than…
I’m not working toward a big mileage goal.
I’m not pushing toward a speed goal.
I am aiming for consistency. It may be only 15 or 20 minutes at a time.
Today’s cardio workout was a 15-minute walk/jog interval session. Shorter than I have done recently. But, I wanted to work on speed a little more (but just a little!). That meant cutting back on the workout session time. I knew I was doing strength right afterward and wanted to leave energy in the tank.These are new thought processes for me. Doing less doesn’t have to be seen as a negative. If it means you can do something more often, then it’s a net gain. Maybe that’s where the “less is more” idea makes sense.I’m dreading my workouts less each week thanks to this shift in my thinking.
Maybe by slowing down, I’m realizing that where I’m at right now is just fine, and as long as I keep taking small steps forward, that is true progress.
—probably my favorite song by an artist of my childhood. The first time I heard it, I was an adult, and it was like a kick in the chest. As I wrote this evening, the lyrics popped into my head.