How Fitness Unlocks the Secrets of the Universe
Using physicality to discover your spirituality
I’ve never been a very religious person.
Growing up Catholic, I went to church every Sunday with my parents, sisters and grandparents. Sit, stand, sit, doze, stand. Occasionally I’d relate to a specific passage or verse, but mostly I looked at church as the price to pay for brunch afterwards.
That’s what religion felt like to me. Obligation. Something you did because that’s just what you did. Like making your bed in the morning. Needless to say, it didn’t really take. I still go to church occasionally, but I’m still that same fidgety kid who fights to stay awake in the pew. And it still takes the bribe of a good meal to get me to go.
But oddly enough, it was religion that helped bring me back from the brink of disaster.
Several years back, I waged war with stress and anxiety. I’ll spare you the lurid details, but it wrecked me. Completely. I was down for the count for a long time. I had to build myself back up piece by piece.
Part of this rebuild was to examine life’s biggest questions. Why am I here? What is my purpose? I quickly realized I couldn’t find the answers inside my own head. I didn’t have the requisite knowledge or experience. So I started looking outward for guidance.
Naturally I began with what I knew, Catholicism. Could living a life focused on the teachings of the Bible lead me in the right direction? Could this be the source of meaning and structure I so desperately craved?
I started going to mass more regularly. I began reading biblical passages and various analyses of the messages therein. I tried to imagine myself as a more active member of the church. I even tried my hand at philanthropy. I didn’t have much money to spare back then so I donated my time a couple of nights a month.
But before long, I stopped going to mass. I stopped reading passages. I stopped volunteering. This wasn’t the answer. I see tremendous utility in serving a faith community, but it just wasn’t right for me.
So, feeling dejected, lost and alone, I decided to take a shot in the dark.
And something amazing happened.
Fitness is the way
I joined the high school cross country team after I didn’t make the freshman golf squad. It turned out to be one of the most pivotal moments of my life. I didn’t know it at the time, but this seemingly insignificant juncture would end up being the catalyst for a lifelong distance running passion, later more wholistic health and fitness. I’ve been in love ever since.
In my estimation, one of the reasons I struggled so mightily with stress and anxiety is I let this love lapse. I let it slip away, like a rose pedal in the wind. I was so focused on my job and my social life and how I was perceived by others I neglected what was closest to my heart. And as all who’ve struggled with anxiety know, you can only ignore your true nature for so long. Eventually you burst at the seams.
So, after my experiment bringing the Catholic faith back into my life didn’t work out as planned, I went back to a more tried and true stratagem. A familiar face who, even though I’d been away for some time, welcomed me back with open arms. I started running again.
Actually, it’d be more accurate to say I lost myself in running again. It was all I did, all I thought about, all I planned for. I didn’t do anything that would compromise my ability to get out for my daily run.
And wouldn’t you know it, I started to get better.
Physicality to find spirituality
spir·it·u·al·i·ty
/ˌspiriCHo͞oˈalədē/
noun
The quality of being concerned with the human spirit or soul as opposed to material or physical things.
“The shift in priorities allows us to embrace our spirituality in a more profound way”
Slowly but surely, my anxiety began to subside. I became less stressed, less worried, less consumed by external factors outside my control. As this process unfolded, my mind began to open up. Instead of using running as life’s release valve as was normally the case, it became the canvas on which my mind laid bare its most intimate thoughts and ideas.
I used to run hard and fast, music turned all the way up, paying little attention to what was happening around me. All that mattered was my time, and time was all that mattered. Tunnel vision in its most explicit form.
Not anymore.
Experience, not time, became most important. The connection between mind, body and soul was now paramount.
I started running on the trails instead of the roads. I started looking up and around instead of just straight ahead. I marveled at the way the sunlight glistened off the leaves in late afternoon. I watched the animals scurry about. I listened to the sounds of the wind blowing through the trees, my feet landing softly on the padded trail, the hum of distant thunder foreshadowing an oncoming storm.
Running can be an exceptionally sensory experience if you take the time to actually look and listen.
I began asking those same questions I started my recovery with: Who am I? Why am I here? What is my purpose? Only now, I didn’t look at them through a religious lens, or any lens at all. I let my mind wander. The shackles were off. I let experience guide my thoughts.
The results were quite profound.
I established my beliefs around my career trajectory. I discovered if I had no passion in what I was doing, if nothing drove me out of bed in the morning, then I was doing something wrong. I’m now on a path towards making my passions my career.
I established my beliefs around life’s priorities. Before, I saw very little utility in finding a life partner or starting a family. There was too much I wanted to do as an individual and not enough time. I didn’t see how leading a shared life could top a “completely free” individual life. I’ve since changed my tune. Completely.
I established my beliefs around a higher power. I won’t discuss them in detail here, I can already see the arguments arising in the comments. The point is now I have beliefs concerning a higher power. Beliefs I didn’t read in a book, or that someone shoved down my throat, but beliefs I’ve come to on my own. And with that comes a level of peace and comfort I didn’t think possible.
My fitness training revolves around using my physical body to strengthen my heart and mind. I’m not interested in how fast I run or how much I lift or how far I throw a baseball. I’m interested in exploring the deeper reasons behind everything I do, really understanding why I do those things, and how I can make my life more meaningful for myself and those around me.
Fitness has set me free.
Look outwards for guidance, but travel inwards for answers
I mentioned before that early in my recovery, I didn’t have the knowledge or experience to fix my problem, so I had to look outwards for help. While this proved to be beneficial, it was only when I journeyed back inwards did I finally find what I was looking for.
We can (and should) ask for help when we need it. It took me a long time to realize that. But ultimately, the answers to all our most important questions can only be found inside ourselves. And when we don’t like what we find, it falls to us and us alone to do something about it.
Let fitness be your toolkit for figuring it all out.
Scott Mayer is a runner, thinker, curious observer and certified personal trainer. Visit the In Fitness And In Health website for training plans, consulting and additional content.
Incredibly well-written post. I can relate. Similar paths.
..... Beautiful. Thank you.