In the post-modern age in which we find ourselves, it is hard to evade the calls to exercise being hollered by health specialists and fitness gurus across the horizons of web and television.
We live in the age of the sedentary, where movement is no longer circumstantial and innate but for the most part a chore, a testament to our willpower and self-discipline. Trying time and time again to incorporate movement into a schedule of endless obligation and deadlines that weigh heavily on the mind, not to mention the common delusion of eternal youth and our oblivion to the eventuality of rusty limbs and strained spines, the awareness that we must move — consistently and dynamically — can prove to be an upward battle.
Many a time have I heard horror at the prospect of breathlessness due to an elevated heart rate (resulting from a cardio session, not a heart attack). Frustration tolerance for a good workout has been gauged at next to nothing, especially in societies where movement plays a role limited to typing or walking to and from the car. This is particularly true in many parts of the United States and the Gulf, where massive urban structure — unlike the European prototype of smaller roads and their pedestrian pavements — has resulted in highways and SUVs as the status quo. Turns out that walking to the bus stop or climbing a set of stairs to get to a train makes a world of difference.
In contrast, our ancestors used to ax and carry their livelihoods, hike up a hill to reach their dwellings and at the very least, mount their body mass onto their mode of transportation. Whilst comfort was not on their side, nature was. It is this primitive simplicity that can often tow the line between life and death. And this of course, remains a way of life for many “primitive” tribes and communities around the world.
We cannot deny that upbringing and the habits fostered during childhood and schooling play a great role in the outcome of our decisions later on in life. During my tumultuous journey of tug-of-war between desire and principle, I have become acutely aware that it was the vast space and facilities of the residential complex in which I reside in the coastal hub of Jeddah – a city in a peninsula of highways and high-rise buildings — combined with attending schools where a variety of sports was mandatory, that have given me the physical and mental stamina to continue fighting the urge to sit in front of the computer indefinitely — sometimes reluctantly, sometimes happily — but for the most part, instinctively.
Yes, movement is life, and learning to connect to the body’s innate needs will give way to the realization that movement is as imperative as quenching thirst or satisfying hunger.
I often both envy and pity those who don’t have a fundamental need to run for the hills in short bursts of energy that emanate a sense of euphoria so great that I often wonder why I would ever stop. Ignorance is bliss, until it’s not. Yet for those who have a nagging sense of responsibility towards their hearts and their all too mortal limbs, getting started can often be a daunting task.
We are inundated with a range of activities and gadgets to choose from pledging to prolong longevity and trim the fat born either out of the incremental ailing of our metabolic rates, our unfortunate genetic tendencies (a blessing in disguise if some of us have a penchant for vanity) or our long-standing addiction to the delights of the agricultural revolution.
All across the battlefield of image and persuasion, emphasis is placed on all sorts of daunting terminology. Cardiovascular exercise strengthens the heart, eliminates LDL — bad cholesterol – and increases circulation to the brain. Just when you’ve managed to get on board with a 30-minute walk, you are told it is ineffective until you break a sweat. Indeed, further investigation will reveal that cardio exercise is far from enough. Resistance, or strength training as it is known — carrying weights or doing those dreaded squats or pushups – is imperative for preserving bone mass and preventing osteoporosis, the depletion of bone mineral density. When you've somehow mustered up the motivation to brisk-walk 4 times a week — and do modified push-ups in miraculous cases of submission and acceptance — along come the yoga gurus swearing by the physio-spiritual dimension and stressing upon the need to keep bone and muscle supple and flexible.
Naturally, common sense dictates that flexibility, stamina and strength work in harmony in the extraordinary machine that is the human body. But what does that mean for our never-ending list of obligations? How many can keep up the juggling variety and consistency in more than one domain of their lives?
Though that is indeed the ideal equation, it is no excuse to abandon pragmatism. The all-or-nothing phenomenon is a delightful comfort zone away from the limelight of disgrace and failure. Many would argue that death is the only certainty and that we might as well approach it doing what we like, or more specifically, not doing what we don't like. Yet when we live with years of neck pain, depression and a box-full of medication, that is peripheral living, a ‘kind-of’ mode of being that contradicts the very essence of the happy, carefree life we so fervently hope to live.
So, in a last-ditch effort and against all odds, for those intimidated by plentiful images of unattainable perfection, all it takes to push through the lethargy of knowing you’ll probably never look like them is the realization that you deserve some kind of quality assurance on life, however moderate.
There is no need for dreamy goals, pricey gym memberships that you think will coerce you into going or Jan. 1 resolutions. All it takes is a painful reality check that we have no other choice but to endure pain-inducing workouts to enjoy a relatively pain-free life. Pragmatism prevails the day you take the stairs instead of the elevator, the evening you go for a walk after a day of frenzied boss and child pleasing and the day you do a dozen pushups as you watch your favorite series. Building upon such a substantial shift in the mind’s eye will only come once expectation is shot down and image is shunned like the outcast that it is. Before you know it, the lean and graceful horse you laid to rest hundreds of bags of potato chips ago emerges in full force, knowing its worth lies its power to overcome the perils of perfectionism and its contentment with well-being in all shapes and forms.
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The exercise empire
