Saturday, December 6, 2014
Day 336.56 is about starting
Stress kills. Faster than cancer, a texting teen or a copperhead. There is a story (I will try to find the specifics) about a group of Shamans who felled a pine tree. Not with an ax and not with an ox. They teemed up to created an around the clock shouting vigil. They sat and shouted at the tree truck for three days. On the fourth it went horizontal. Dead from the stress of emotional violence.
Metaphorically, does this sound eerily familiar?
We are so bombarded with stress on a daily basis that I sometimes wonder how everyone isn't addicted to Zoloft, Jose Curevo or Mary Jane (or all three.)
Making matters worse is our tendency to indulge in what has become known as 'comfort food'. Nothin' like a bag of Oreos and some escapist TV, right? Heck might as well toss in a gallon of Ben & Jerry's while the commercials run.
This must end folks. Assuming, of course that you consider your health important and have set a high standard for your athletic competitions. Or from the hedonistic perspective, if you simply want to get a second look from the opposite sex (or the same if that is your preference - I don't care.)
How do we overcome our propensity for sloth? Commitment. Make exercise (workouts or training) a habit. Let me provide an example. I have been getting out of bed at 0430 Monday and Wednesdays for the last ten years. It is habitual. I like it. I love the silence and calm of the pre-dawn mornings. We hit it hard, studio cycling, for an hour and I am reedy to face the rigors of the day immediately after my shower. All this before 0700. Habit. No questions, nothing to chance. No ifs, ands or maybes.
Make a commitment. How about tomorrow? Monday at the latest. Introduce immediate change into your existence. Make it meaningful. Make it count.
Set your alarm. Get up. Get moving towards the event. Suit up. Get started. And my favorite: KEEP GOING.
Once that becomes a big part of the new you, a new mantra just might pop into your consciousness. The one about quitting. Like when we're dead.
Graphic used by permission.