“Most people need consistency more than they need intensity.
“Intensity:
-run a marathon
-write a book in 30 days
-silent meditation retreat“Consistency:
-don’t miss a workout for 2 years
-write every week
-daily silence“Intensity makes a good story. Consistency makes progress.” ~ James Clear
If you were to come to me to ask my advice about improving your fitness, strength or mobility, here’s what I would say. “Only start something that you think you could do for the rest of your life.”
Not for a month. Not for a year. But all the rest of your days.
That might sound absurd in a culture that is enamored of quick fixes, “one weird trick,” and odd bro-biohacks. But if you really want to make a difference, consistency not intensity is your friend.
I could give a zillion examples of this, from nutritional changes to increased strength training, from improving endurance to increasing joint mobility. And that would be boring. Literally. Consistency is, practically by definition, boring. It’s doing the same thing, often a small thing, over and over and over. But darlin’s, the cumulative impact of consistent commitment to something? That’s what moves freaking mountains.
Because the power is in this consistent commitment, I also encourage people to do these things with other people. It takes energy to keep going. It is easier together.
And this is not just true for physical and health pursuits, of course. It’s anything you want to do better. Want to be a better writer? Write a little every day…and check in with a writing buddy. Want to have a better relationship? Put your phones down and spend time talking every day…and help each other not slide back into old patterns. Want to make the world a better, kinder place*? Keep showing up, standing up and speaking up every. single. day. with. your. people.
Almost exactly 11 years ago, I wrote an essay that I think about all the time now that we are eyelash deep in an American political crisis. Be An Ant was about making any change but when I went back to it, I read this excerpt from an activist’s point of view:
In 2001, my corporate job and I parted ways.
Don’t you like how I said that? Actually, I got fired. Which stung a little. But the truth was that both of us – my corporate job and me – were not happy so it was just as well that we broke up.
My dream was to teach [mindful movement]. I wanted to help people – big rooms full of sweaty smiling people. Back then I had only a couple of classes. So in between learning routines and teaching twice a week, I worked with my husband, Frank, renovating old houses.
Here’s what I know about renovating old houses: nothing.
Okay, that’s not quite true. I know that it’s messy, dirty work and that there are power tools involved. I know that Frank takes houses so heinously ugly that I can barely look at them and makes them into homes I pine for. That’s what I know. Not much of a resume, I grant you. But I had an in with the owner, so he took me on to do unskilled labor and make lunches that I brought to the site in the kids’ little red wagon.
One of the first things Frank taught me when we were working together was “be an ant.” He would get us started on a project – move all this lumber from here to there, say, or scrape this linoleum off of the kitchen floor, or unload this gravel from the back of the truck – and I would kind of wilt, wide-eyed at the prospect. “Be an ant,” he’d say. “Just do what’s right in front of you. Take one more board, scrape this square foot, shovel this shovelful. Don’t look at the whole thing. It will just make you lose heart and energy. Just be an ant and do it one little bit at a time.”
Be an ant. It was simply amazing what we could accomplish with this one little instruction.
Stinky, disgusting rooms were transformed into lovely spaces. Falling down porches or odd concrete platforms became inviting places to sit and relax. Wildly overgrown yards became welcoming, landscaped gardens. All just by being an ant. [Read the whole essay here.]
When in doubt, when in overwhelm or even when in despair (although if you’re there, go drink some water, walk outside, call a friend or lie down in the grass first), be an ant.
Be an ant who commits to showing up consistently. Be an ant who chooses to do the little thing over and over rather than one big thing. Be an ant who regularly goes to actions and volunteers at events and donates to fundraisers — not go to one protest and nothing changed overnight. Be the ant who sees another sad or despairing ant and invites them to come with you to choose regular, consistent action.
Be a consistent, connecting, joyful badass ant.
