Hey, bud...

It’s not hard to tell when spring is coming.  Flowers!  Pollen!  Sneezing!  Baby animals!  Sunshine!  The temptation is to throw all the sweaters into deep storage, break out the flip-flops, and stake out a lounge chair in the sun.

The thing is, spring is a process.  We start with buds and then proceed to flowers and then leaves and then fruit.  Sure, the potential for a peach is right there, balled up on the branch, but it isn’t there yet.

We need to be patient and give ourselves time to unfold and develop.  (Yes, I am talking about fitness, too.)  Breathe.  Enjoy the warmth.  Let the stretch come when it comes.

Rules and Rubrics

I love making up rules.

For example, my basic three rules are:  1. Don’t be a jerk.  2. Use your good judgment.  3. No sangria ever, under any circumstances.

My rules for biking are:  1. It has to be fun.  2. I don’t have to go far or fast.  3. I can stop any time I want.

In the car, the rule is that the driver gets veto power over the music.  Reading is allowed by the rules during breakfast and lunch, but not at dinner.  The person who makes dinner, by rule, does not have to do the dishes.

In addition to rules, I like to use rubrics.  Rubrics help me define what a good job is.  The rubric for housework, for example, is that a good job has been done if things are better than when I started.

Finally, I have reached the fitness part of the story.  I suggest that when it comes to workouts, we use both rules and rubrics.  For rules, I offer these:  1. Let’s be safe.  2. Let’s have fun.  For rubrics, let’s try these:  1. Show up.  2. Do something.  3. Get sweaty.

We can make it a lot more complicated, but let’s start here.

Monday Workout: Fun with Medicine Balls!

I’m in the mood to play with medicine balls, so we all get to do it!  Three rounds.

woodchoppers	30
ball slams	20
rescues	10
curtsy with ball overhead	30
twist lunge	20
ball pushups	10
side slams	30
skullcrushers	20
Russian twist	10

Friday Book Report: When Breath Becomes Air

Andrew Luck made me cry.  I’m a little behind, so I just finished the “veteran” selection for February for his book club, Paul Kalanithi’s When Breath Becomes Air.  What a beautiful book!

And, despite the fact that it made me cry and the fact that it’s about a guy dying of cancer, the book is not depressing, not at a deep level, because it is about someone who gets it, someone who figures out how to live life before it’s over.

We don’t get to control the quantity of our days.  Let’s make the most of the quality.

Planning and unplanning

Of course I plan workouts.  That’s what I do.  I’m a professional, after all.  But I don’t always stick to the plan.

Sometimes stuff happens.  We eat something that keeps us up in the night.  We twist an ankle unloading the groceries.  We have cramps, or allergies, or goosebumps.

We have to listen to our bodies.  Sometimes they don’t want to lift heavy, but they are happy to run around outside.  Other times, weights gladden our hearts and muscles. 

One of the messages we ignore most often is the one about stretching.  Our bodies like it.  We feel like we can’t spare the time, and how useful can it be to do something that, you know, feels good?

Listen.  It’s how we learn.

It's kind of about fitness, if you squint a little, or if you run away from the comb fast enough

As a kid, I was a pretty serious Goody Two-Shoes.  I believed in following the rules and doing my homework and not leafing through the Candyland cards to find the one that got you to the end quickest.  It worked.  I am a reasonably successful adult with a sense of responsibility.

I did, however, once steal a fire engine, according to my mother.  I was maybe two or three, so I don’t actually remember the crime in question.  A kid in our neighborhood had one, the kind you could sit in and pedal.  The lust in my heart apparently led me to pedal it home and tantrum because I eventually had to give it back.  The punishment for this crime?  I got my own fire engine.

A few years later, there was a new chapter in the epic battle between my mom and me over my hair.  We were running late for school.  I hate to be late (see previous declaration about Goody Two-Shoes, who is clearly always prompt.).  I explained to my mother that I could in fact go to school without combing my hair, but I could not go without putting on my shoes.  This logic did not cut it with my mom.  Then again, she would go out naked before she would go out without lipstick, so I expect she reasons from different premises.  (I eventually learned to go to school both with combed hair and shoes.)  Discovering the difference between actual rules and preferences or norms can be a painful process, particularly if there are tangles involved.

The point is that rules are useful, but breaking the rules can also be useful.  We cannot be rigid and still grow.  What rules are keeping us from blooming?  Are they really rules?  What are we so passionate about that we are willing to make off with it from the neighbor’s driveway?  How can we get our own?

Wishing...

When I work with clients, the most important questions I ask are about what they want.  We grow toward what we practice, so it is important to choose practices that are in line with what we wish.

When those things aren’t aligned, we are as likely to get what we want by blowing dandelion seeds to the wind.