Yesterday, was very special. I hung out with my best friend, helping her do some shopping for her mother who is in the beginning stages of dementia. She’s the same age that my mother would be if she were still living. I haven’t shopped for a mother (other than myself) for 30 years, and it was difficult to hold back tears while watching her mom’s face beam with delight as she put away her new supplies.
There are some things that are “nevers.” I will never, in this life, care for my elderly mother. I will never brush her hair, never buy her new clothes, and never get beaten at Gin Rummy by her again. Never.
Please don’t think that I use the example of my mother morbidly, or to make anyone sad, myself included. I use this example to illustrate the monumental gravity of the word never. Anyone who’s lost a loved one knows that death equals some weighty and permanent nevers.
After, visiting with my friend’s mom for a few hours, I headed to the gym to get the rest of my day’s 10,000 steps in. The padded track is on the second floor where the exercise studios are located. As I walked on the inner “slow lane,” I couldn’t help but notice the runners gracefully sprinting past me in the outer “fast lane.” Their well honed muscles, their fluid movements, and their oneness with the track, made me yearn to be like them. As I passed the classrooms, I saw people dizzily spinning at speeds that I couldn’t imagine reaching. I watch a core class doing TRX Training that looked virtually impossible. I spied men and women in an X-treme Aerobics class moving with a pace and steps that seemed unreachable. Then I found myself thinking a dreadful thought–one that I’ve work so hard to shut out of my mind’s recesses; “I could NEVER do that!” I didn’t just think it once; I had a never for every activity on that second floor. In fact, I walked and entire lap lost in my own personal Neverland!
Luckily, I mindfully “checked myself before I wrecked myself!” The next lap, I changed my way of thinking. “I can’t do that yet, ” I thought, as a runner flew by me. “I can’t do that, yet,” I mused, as I passed some impressive, suspended push-ups happening in the TRX class. “I can’t do that yet,” I said, as I glided by the sweaty spinners. “I can’t do that yet,” I inwardly smiled, as I shuffled past the lithe aerobic dancers.
“YET” is a power word. It’s imbued with hopefulness and magnificent things to come. It implies future successes, the meeting of goals, and the crossing of finish lines. On this rainy Wednesday, in my corner of the world, I implore you to change your weighty, dead-end, final nevers to glorious, hopeful, anticipating YETS!
What exercise goals are you working on? What will you be able to do physically in the future? Tell me about it! 🙂