I’m not a particularly big Nike fan (beyond their running app, which I live by), but I do like their “Just Do It” motto—I think that we’d all be better off sometimes if we stopped hemming and hawing, quit analyzing and crunching the data, gave our information-saturated brains a break, sucked it up and jumped in, feet first.
Do you want to start running? Are you unsure about where and how to begin? Do you have mysterious aches and pains? Do you worry you don’t have enough energy or the right clothes? Are you afraid of the rain, the cold, the sun, the heat?
Take the leap. There’s never going to be the perfect time, the perfect weight, the perfect weather, the perfect outfit, or the ideal body. We all have to start somewhere, with what we have. It doesn’t matter if we are waiting to write a book or begin an exercise regimen. If we wait until we have time or an office, the right shoes, or smaller love handles, well, we might never get started.
Begin at the beginning. Start where you are. I have a friend who wouldn’t start running because her shoulder hurt. And then her knee hurt. She chose to stay on the couch with an ice pack on instead of getting out there and moving. Until she didn’t. Until she got up and just went for it. The aches and pains vanished over time. She lost weight. Her mood improved. She joined a running group. Eventually she ran races and bought cool shoes.
That’s the paradox. When we use our muscles, they feel better (or they hurt so good) because they were meant to move. When we write, we improve. With each mile we put on the pedometer (or Nike app, or FitBit or RunKeeper), with each sentence we get down, each paragraph we complete, our muscles get stronger, our prose improves, our ideas coalesce.
So, go for it. Just do it. You’ll be glad you did, and everything will fall into place, including those love handles.