Around this time last summer, I was just learning how to walk again. I had shredded my Achilles tendon, had surgery, and was almost able to resume all activities. Since then, I am fully recovered, and all is back to normal—sort of.
Physically, I’ve always been fine with running. At Fit House, during the summers when we do Met Con sprinting class, it may take me a couple of weeks to get back up to speed, and boom—I’m gold. In terms of longer distances, there have been a couple of instances over the years where I’ve been goaded into 3-5 miles, and I’m good for it (it usually takes me a couple of weeks to ease into it). I’ve never strived for anything longer than that, and outside of sprinting, I don’t typically run at all. Why? It could mesh with my goals if I really enjoyed and wanted to incorporate it; rather, there are other activities that are far superior for my goals, and I devote my time to those.
My wife has been running recently and asked me to join her. I did, and I noticed something; it wasn’t like usual when I am able to just jump in, and boom—I’m gold. My wind was fine, but my Achilles/calf was tender. Uh-oh—not good. If I don’t intercede and do something about this, eventually, I’m not going to be able to just jump into running, like it ain’t no thang, and only need a couple of weeks to get back up to snuff. If I continue down this path, my running life may be over.
This reminds me of piano lessons and “Once Upon a December.” I was a competitive pianist in my younger years, got too cool for it, and quit. When I was in my late 20s, I took it up again. It was an arduous task, as I had forgotten virtually everything, but I honed my skills better than before. My absolute favorite piece of music to play was “Once Upon a December” from Anastasia. When I opened Fit House, I quit playing piano with the intention of coming back to it once life “calmed down.” I also promised myself that even though I might forget everything else, I would play “Once Upon a December,” once a day, to ensure that I never forgot it. I started out strong, but once a day soon turned into once every other day, then once a week, and finally, my ability to handle that piece was lost. It was the end of my piano life.
Look, I could make a comeback. I could start devoting hours and hours each week to instruction and regaining my lost skill; granted, it will be a long, uphill battle. I won’t anytime soon; it’s just not as important as other things currently going on in my life. Can anyone relate to this? I see this all the time with people, specifically with their health. Their health just is not as important as other things in their life.
As an example, I’ve seen people make amazing life changes training 4x per week and devoting themselves to a nutrition plan; then they cut down to three training days, then they cut down to two, and then I never see them again. Their body slowly turns to yuck over the years, and the magnitude of the uphill battle to return to their previous glory is too much for them to surmount. When I run into them, it’s always the same, “I was in the best shape of my life and felt my absolute best when I was with you.” Now, they have given up.
I’ve seen people invest more in booze, partying, concerts, big screen TVs, insert meaningless bullshit here, than they do in their health. As years pass, by the time they realize what happened, it’s too late for them to ever turn things around.
I’m concerned about the entire COVID situation. Many people have taken backward steps during this period, and it’s going to take a lot of disciplined work to move forward again. Global pandemic notwithstanding, we’re all taking backward steps every day, like it or not! As we age, our bodies are slowly deteriorating. If we’re not doing enough to counter this deterioration, we’re always moving backwards; how slow or fast is up to us.
Let’s say pre-COVID someone was not 100% with his or her nutrition and training. However, what that person was doing allowed for forward progress, albeit at a modest pace. Let’s grade this individual 70% compliance and a 7/10 in the results department. Now, this person’s whole everything has been thrown off over the last four months, and he or she is currently a 4/10 in the results department. When this person gets back into the swing of things, do you think a 70% effort is going to get those results back to a 7/10? A 70% effort may move him or her up to a 5/10, but unless this person is ready to up the participation and compliance level, life as a 7/10 is effectively over.
This is the truth, and it is what it is. I’m probably never going to recapture my piano glory again, or maybe I will. I have buckets of time to postulate that because it’s not my health I’m talking about; I can pick piano back up at virtually any age. My health, however, is not something that can afford the luxury of time, and I never want to be the guy who’s not able to run, be fast, or be agile. So I’m adding in some additional running until my Achilles/calf is strong again. That’s how important it is to me.
What’s important to you? I’m not writing this to depress or pick on anyone. I’m simply being frank and discussing an ugly truth: here’s where we are, and it is what it is. How are you going to handle it? How will you emerge from this? Victoriously? Or will this effectively be the end of your being-strong life? Will this be the end of your weighing-a-certain-weight life? Is this the end of your waist-being-a-certain-size life? Could it be the end of your body-looking-a-certain-way life? Maybe the end of your functioning-with-fluidity-and-ease life?
Perhaps the next couple weeks is the time to start wrapping your mind around how you’re going to come out of this. We’re starting outdoor sessions again at Fit House, and there’s a lot of excitement in the air. No hole is too deep to emerge from. I believe in every single person I train and what you’re capable of. I realize that probably sounds like a canned line, but consider this: as of approximately three years ago, I only work with people that I like. There’s a direct correlation between people I like and people I believe in. I’ve got the plan, and if you’re ready, we can not only prevent this situation from ending any chapters in any of our lives, we can use it to springboard toward future successes! And I promise you, nothing tastes as sweet as the success of health and well-being!
About the author
Chris Rombola
Chris is the owner of Fit House. He's run the training departments at several commercial gyms, and after years of seeing how awful those environments were for his clients, he opened his own studio. He is devoted to getting people strong, lean, and healthy.
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