Core Daily
One Small Change
The Verdict on Fitness Junk
A month ago I began an experiment—and a new blog series—to throw out one fitness-related thing a day. In my first blog post, I wrote about a dumpster that I once had dropped in my backyard for a home-renovation project and how I grew fond of that ugly rusting hulk because it enabled me to throw out so much stuff. After two months, I was free of all my debris, back in control and ready to move on.
Little did I realize that in the 10 years since then I had become that dumpster. My life was a veritable trash bin of ever-accumulating stuff, and nowhere was it more evident than in the area of sports and fitness. After raising a couple of athletic kids and spending a career in the health-and-fitness business, I had a basement (and a brain) that was clogged with it.
Let’s stop a moment and ponder this word stuff. The very sound of it reminds me of those balls of lint, hair and unidentifiable particles that collect in wisps in the corners of my home (and head) and eventually end up in the vacuum cleaner bag. Whenever I change it and peak inside, I can’t help wondering where all this stuff came from. Am I really generating this?
Remember Charlie Brown’s friend Pig-Pen? He lived in a dust cloud with his cheeks forever smudged. We are all like that in some respects. After going through life or the gym for a while, stuff attaches to us. If we don’t do anything about it, it eventually makes us (and the world) a little blurry.
And to take the metaphor one step farther, remember the thrill of building forts as a youngster—of how safe you felt inside where no one could find you? I’m no psychologist, but I suspect one of the main reasons our society has become such packrats is simply because we’re scared to death of all the bogeymen the media is constantly warning us about. Rather than admit our fear, we buy things, we surround ourselves with things, and we crouch down among our things. Throwing stuff out means dismantling these forts and making ourselves vulnerable—and that’s why it’s so difficult.
After throwing out 31 fitness-related things this month and, honestly, only having scratched the surface of all I own, I’ve learned three things—three rules that I’m going to post on the bulletin board above my desk where I’ll see them every day. Lance Armstrong may want us to Live Strong, but it’s time for me (and perhaps you) to refine that dictum. From now on, I’m going to…
1. Live simply: This means not buying every new bit of gear that enamors me—of getting by with the serviceable rather than the sensational. And it means continuing to sift through my fitness junk pile and throwing out what I know I’ll never use again or shouldn’t be depending on.
2. Live lightly: A stationary target is the easiest kind for stuff to stick to. So I’m going to try to not let myself get mired in one place or with one activity for too long. Living lightly is another way of saying I welcome the aerobic workout that is change.
3. Live aerodynamically: We’re all fighting headwinds, whether at work, in relationships or against the persistent gale that is age. So it makes sense not to outfit ourselves with more than we need. Think downhill skier in a full tuck. That’s what I’m aiming for every day.
Coming up in next month's "One Small Change" blog: What will happen when one chronically dehydrated guy attempts to drink 100+ ounces of fluid every day?
<< Previous 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.
