Consistency Beats Perfection

I am learning how to run.

Again.

I have 32kg of badly trained Labrador, a treadmill that sits near the office alongside a punch bag, and some weights and I try and take the time to exercise every day. It gives me freedom, it gives me space, it’s a great way to start the day and as a post-menopausal, 50-year-old, somewhat heavier than I might want to be the type of person, I like to think that every minute walking the dog, on the treadmill or lifting weights is buying me a little bit more time.

This journey of exercising isn’t a new one. Strangely I have found the advent of Facebook memories quite telling in spelling out to me just how long this journey to fitness and health has been going on. At the last count, it probably started 15 years ago when I was in my mid-30s and needed to access fertility treatment.

I was heavy then, too heavy to be deemed fit for the treatment I so desperately wanted and it only took one look from the fertility nurse and one line in the follow-up letter to give me the impetus I needed to get fitter and lose the weight. I made a call that day to a personal trainer, made a commitment to turn up, ate better, showed up 3 times a week at the gym, sweated, cried, moved, sweated a bit more, and when I rocked up at the clinic a little less than 3 months later, I was transformed. Not entirely you understand, it had only been 3 months, but the target I had set myself which was to be closer to the right weight for treatment was one that I achieved. High five! and to be honest it was worth it to see the look on the consultant’s face. The moment that we both clocked that I wasn’t to be messed with.

The years that followed happily contained two healthy pregnancies, a weight gain of around 5 stone, a weight loss of about the same, and since then there has been a journey through training and completing 2 night time marathon walks, online yoga, weekend workshop yoga, class-based yoga, pilates, walking, boxing, weights, more walking, occasional bouts of running, cycling and a few gyms. When I say gyms, what I really mean is a gym membership.

At one time I would do my best exercise when I travelled to the gym, when I put my best kit on, when I did that great class when I got that new pair of trainers, the perfect playlist, the best person to have that long walk with. I waited until the conditions were perfect so that I could have the perfect workout. Whatever that is. It won’t be a great surprise to know that the perfect opportunities didn’t arise as often as might have been useful and that James Clear was right in his book Atomic Habits when he talked about showing up. Showing up, no matter what you are wearing, how you feel, how much time you have. Every time you show up, you are placing a vote towards the person that you want to become.

Fast forward to now, happy middle age is here and I’m still working at getting fitter and healthier. I am still bigger than is healthy and I am still working on it. It being working on getting smaller, fitter, more mentally agile, stronger boned, more toned, and carrying less weight. I have had a personal trainer for the last couple of years to help me work my way healthily through perimenopause, to give my workouts some structure, to avoid aggravating the odd aches and pains, and to give me a motivational boot up the backside to keep going. I added a kick-ass health strategist to this before my 50th birthday and its no exaggeration to say that this has fundamentally re-designed my relationship with food and actually my knowledge of what healthy looks and feels like.

I don’t have any particular burning platform that means I NEED to do anything RIGHT NOW to improve my health and fitness. I don’t need to access treatment, I haven’t been advised to lose weight by a medical professional (yet) and I don’t feel unhappy with my lot. I just have a generalised need, a desire, the knowledge that the statistics would suggest that my chances of illness from cancer, heart disease, diabetes, osteoporosis are much higher unless I get fitter and lose weight.

So what’s the point of writing this? well, it's simple. The point is going back to the starting point.

Consistency beats perfection. Somehow, after the years of trying so hard to make this a habit, I now exercise every day. It’s part of who I am. Whether it be 10 minutes, 60 mins, 90 mins, or somewhere in between, I am walking the badly trained dog, running as part of Couch to 5K, lifting weights, attending bootcamp, walking, gardening, dancing or kick boxing, cold water swimming is my latest obsession, something every single day. I find that my best exercise is done in the early mornings but aside from that there are no rules. I wear whatever scruff I lay my hands on, listening to whatever Spotify throws up, alongside whatever family member, fleshy or furry, happens to be there, doing whatever exercise I feel like doing that day.

A habit.

Consistently.

Every day.

Not perfect.

Consistent.?