It never fails. Each year, when the weather starts getting just a little bit nicer, the thought occurs to me: I need to get out in the yard and clean it up; it’ll be good for the yard, and it’ll be good for me, to not be sitting at my desk the entire day, every day. The very idea of yard work — or even, basically, the idea of moving and lifting things and being active feels both exciting and necessary.
And then, after my first attempt every single year, I remember: I am a weakling who sits at his desk the entire day, every day, and I can manage maybe an hour, two tops, of active yard work before I want to take a break for the rest of the day. It doesn’t matter what I’m doing, almost; I could be uprooting trees, weeding, or waving the weed wacker around like there’s no tomorrow; after an hour or two, I feel like I need a sitdown and preferably one that’ll last quite some time, if given the opportunity.
It’s a reminder of how inactive I am for the majority of my time, and underscores the mild guilt I feel that I don’t follow through on my multiple promises to myself to head back to the gym, or even just go outside on more walks. (To be fair; that’s far easier in the summer, when the weather is less determined to make you close the windows and not even look outside without shivering.) For all that I might think that I’m in relatively good condition, considering, that’s a thought that comes from the same place that believes that I still have the same body that I did 10 years ago, which is also the same place that suggests that maybe a doughnut isn’t the worst idea because I probably deserve a treat.
Despite this, despite the experience every year, I still try when the weather gets better. I still think for a brief moment, maybe this is my time to properly get active, this will be a good start, and I still put in the effort for those one or two hours before I collapse in sweat and regret. While the best ending to this story would be remembering to actually rejoin the gym and start working out again, I think that the fact that I try every single year is a decent runner-up, at least in the short term. When I get too jaded and achey to even think I’m capable, that’s when I should really start worrying.