Core Daily
One Small Change
Measure Less, Play More
My small change for this month is throwing out one fitness-related item each day. Last week, I concentrated on chucking equipment—gear that has been in my home so long I don’t even remember how it got there (like 27 assorted golf clubs and 19 bicycle saddles). While there’s a lot more of that stuff to pitch, this week I’m taking a slightly different tack. I’m focusing on things that hold some deeper meaning. (And no, I’m not talking about my Little League home-run ball; I’ll never part with that.)
Let me explain: Athletes are probably the biggest creatures of habit on the planet. We have to be in order to train daily at mindless, repetitive tasks and then ultimately shut down our brains and rely upon that conditioning and muscle memory to excel. So it’s understandable that over the years we collect ways of doing things that, while originally beneficial, are no longer so. In fact, they may be holding us back or, at the very least, making our sports less enjoyable.
So in my ongoing war on clutter, both physical and mental, the things I’m throwing out this week are symbolic:
9 years worth of training diaries (dating back to 1991): Did it ever matter that on July 18, 1992, I rode my bike 29 miles in 1:48.31 and had a sausage sandwich and 8 ounces of milk for lunch? While tracking workouts is a proven way to analyze performance and provide motivation, I’ve reached the point where quality is more important than quantity. I’d rather lose myself in the beat of my heart and the labor of my breath than the tick of a Timex. Throwing out these training logs is my official break with this measure-everything mindset. (Besides, it’s just too depressing to see how slow all those sausage sandwiches have made me.)
Lance Armstrong’s "Run Longer" playlist: I love listening to my iPod when I work out. It encourages me to do more. But at the same time, it also cuts me off and makes me less aware. It makes me live in my head, which, believe me, is a disturbing place to spend the day. So from now on I’ll be listening to the music of nature when I’m exercising outdoors or to the cymbal-clank of free-weights in the gym. My suspicion is there’s an even better groove to that if I can learn to appreciate it.
2 Nautica Malibu Triathlon medals (2005 and 2006): Before you become too impressed, these weren’t podium awards, just tokens of participation given to the thousands of finishers. I’m throwing them out because they represent my fascination with always going faster and finishing higher than I did the year before. While this ethic of constant improvement is fun and beneficial for a while, the longer you hold onto it the more pressure it brings. It’s time to start placing more value on the ride rather than the results. It’s time to finish with the pack and not apologize for it. The experience is the journey, not the end of it.
1 thick manila folder of east-central Pennsylvania bike routes: For god’s sake, I exercise at the same time every day. I eat the same breakfast beforehand. I follow the same roads. I fall back on the same workouts. No wonder it’s difficult to get motivated some days or why I need an iPod. From now on, I’m going to meander rather than map things out. That’s more exciting. That’s how we keep learning. (But what’s your mobile number in case I get lost?)
4 youth soccer balls of varying sizes: My daughter was a great under-8 soccer player. So great that, at my encouragement, she eventually gave up basketball and softball to join a travel team and play year-round. But she burned out before she ever reached high school (and well before getting that college scholarship). With these soccer balls I’m throwing out my misguided disdain for dabbling. For the vast majority of us, the primary goal of participating in sports should be to have fun and stay healthy. And the best way to do that is to sample a wide variety of them in order to boost enjoyment and all-around fitness. In this, we can all be Beckhams.
2 titanium water-bottles cages: I bought these a number of years ago for $50 apiece. Fifty dollars! Sure they’re light and beautiful, and they enabled me to get my Merlin road bike under 20 pounds. But at my age and ability level, it doesn’t matter if I’m a few seconds faster in the bike leg of a sprint triathlon. Even 10% better than so-so is still not that good. So I’m going to stop wasting money on the latest and greatest, which, come to think of it, is how I got into this cluttered predicament in the first place.
3 heart-rate monitors: For my whole life I’ve been a “serious recreational athlete,” which is an oxymoron on the level of "political intelligence" if there ever was one. But there comes a time—and it should be much sooner for all of us—when exercise should cease to be called working out and be approached as the playful game that it is. Replacing the grimace with the grin, at least in my case, is long overdue. Who cares how fast my heart is beating? At least it’s still beating.
<< Previous Post Next Post >>
About The Author
Joe Kita – Joe Kita is a noted writer, editor, motivational speaker and teacher. He authors the blog "One Small Change" for CorePerformance.com.
