The First Step

I'm staring at a blank page for this new blog, wondering what to write. The irony hasn't escaped me. My greatest challenge is not coming up with ideas or goals for my life--it's turning those ideas and goals into reality. 

Starting a business. Writing a book. Reclaiming my health.

A recent conversation with a friend crystallized my most salient issue: starting. 

The blank page yawns in front of me, infinitely tall, gaping wide. I'm overwhelmed by the thought of what could happen, the various paths I could take, the potential obstacles I might face, the chances for failure.

My friend--who has several years more experience, more time wrangling habits and harnessing inertia and facing fear--passed along some sage advice.

And that's why I'm here. 

Today. In this moment. Writing this post.

His advice? 

Set a goal to start. Start do-able. Start miniscule. Start embarrassingly easy. But start.

• You want to start a business? Set a daily goal to login to a business account.
• You want to write a book? Set a daily goal to write a sentence.
• You want to do 100 pushups a day? Set a daily goal to do one pushup.

Long-term, my desire is to reclaim my health. I have lived a sedentary lifestyle the past decade, and my body has paid the price. I get such little exercise on a daily basis, I'd be mortified to quantify it for the general public. I am the largest I've ever been, and other aspects of my health are starting to deteriorate as well.

I've procrastinated starting to exercise again. Every day, I offer excuses--I'm too tired, my work was too demanding, it's too late at night, I have too much to do, the gym is too far away, the weather is too bad to go outside, I don't feel safe going alone, I want to spend time with family and friends, life will get easier and less stressful later, . . . 

Excuses roll out of my brain easily.

Then, come the recriminations--the could haves, should haves, would haves. Their voices rarely leave me alone.

I don't need them.

My near-term aspiration? 1000 miles. If I walk a mile a day, that will take me roughly 2 years 9 months. If I walk more or less than that per day, the timeline will shift. I'm less concerned about the precise timeline than I am about walking the 1000 miles and about developing the daily habit of exercise.

As the adage goes, "the journey of 1000 miles begins with a single step."

My daily goal? Step on the treadmill.  

(What can I say? I'm a literalist.)

Every day, just step on the treadmill.

I can do that. 

I don't need a pedometer or a trainer or people or machines pushing me harder or indicating I'm not good enough. Those will derail me.

I just need to step on the treadmill.

Today, September 22, 2019, I took that first step.