What's Your WHY?

Getting clear on what matters to you.

“My sister said not to take the paths marked with white and red.” I pointed at the arrow sign at the top of the trail at Kleine Sheidegg toward Wengen.

“Why not?” my fiancé asked.

 “She said the Swiss have a wide definition of a mountain trail. Apparently, we could find ourselves hanging on to a chain off the side of a mountain. Not like we need carabineers, but it could mean almost anything,” I said as I looked at the trail with the white and red designation. It didn’t look that bad compared to its wide, groomed counterpart. We looked at each other and smiled. When he said, “Let’s do it,” I agreed.

We were visiting my much younger sister and her family in Switzerland last month, and she suggested we hike from Kleine Sheidegg to Wangen, a beautiful section of the Jungfrau valley. It was her and her husband’s favorite hike to do with their kids. The weather was unseasonably mild, so we made the trip. Stepping off the train and looking at the magnificent Eiger, Monch, and Jungfrau peaks made the train ride worth it. I was glad we took her advice.

Moments later, we were quick to dismiss it, taking the path she told us not to take. Good luck was what she texted when I told her what we were doing. The subtext was clear.

Why did I do that? Go against her recommendation, in a foreign country, hours away from anyone we could call for help? Why? Because I could. and I know there will come a time when I can’t. There will be a time when I don’t have the strength, proprioception, vision, balance reactions, stamina, and you name it to go on the nicely graded gravel path let alone the mysterious red and white trail. At the age of fifty-five, I have fewer years ahead of me than behind me in which I can take those risks. So, we did.

I love physical movement. You name it —walking, running, swimming, cross-country skiing, yoga, gardening, lifting, twisting, anything that isn’t a ball sport, I’m in. Not everybody is like that. I get that. I know that I’m happier when I am moving, so I make it a priority. The older I get, the harder it is to prioritize exercise and movement, which sucks. But, if I want to keep doing the things I love for as long as I can, I must keep physical activity as a priority. That’s the way our bodies work. Unlike getting over the flu or healing from a cut, staying strong and functional are not passive endeavors. Our muscular system requires active maintenance.  

Way back in the early 90s, when I was getting my graduate degree in Physical Therapy, one of our professors flashed a slide up on the screen that terrified me. It showed the loss of muscle mass as we age. The curve started to slope downward around the age of thirty and became steeper with age. At the time, I was twenty-three or twenty-four, and the graph freaked me out. My penchant for catastrophizing took me to a dark place within seconds. How can the decline start so early? Was I looking at just a few more good years? Then my self-protection mechanisms kicked in. Maybe the data was wrong. Surely, it is wrong. And then my brain really did its thing with Well, it won’t happen to me.  

Bless my younger self’s heart. The data was not wrong. This is what happens. It is a normal part of aging. We lose muscle mass and strength as we get older, about 1-3% a year, depending on lifestyle. And I can definitively say that it is happening to me. Nobody’s immune to this process. Denial doesn’t alter reality.  

There is some good news, or bad, depending on your penchant for movement and exercise. Physical activity and strengthening can change the slope of that curve. Lifestyle choices matter. A more sedentary lifestyle means riding that curve down the decline and picking up speed. It means not being able to get up off the toilet seat one day when it was only problematic the day before. (I’m thinking about Jane Fonda’s character in Grace and Frankie.)

The last two-plus years have wreaked havoc on people’s mobility and function. Retreating to the silos of our home offices, sitting in front of computer screens for hours on end, and ditching the gym have left many people feeling like strangers in their own bodies. Maybe there’s pain where there wasn’t before. Perhaps trips up and down the stairs are more laborious than they should be. Maybe the thought of taking that vacation or getting on the floor to play with grandchildren seems like too much effort. It makes sense. We are all two years older than we were before COVID, perhaps more sedentary, and without strengthening and mobility interventions, we are also two years weaker than we were before March 2020.

It was a common theme with my patients this year. As life returned to normal, people found that their bodies are anything but normal. Everyone was just trying to keep it together. Exercise and movement moved way down on the To Do list. Of course, they did. That took its toll. I heard over and over that simple things were no longer simple. Patients were concerned. Some were scared. They wanted to know What to do about it.

Before we got to the What, I had them start with the Why. (Believe it or not, the What is the more straightforward part, but I’ll get to that in another installment.) Why were they coming to therapy? When I got answers like “I want to get rid of my back pain” or “I want to get stronger” I pushed them to dig deeper. Why did they want to get stronger? I wanted them to get in touch with their unique Why for making changes. Something that would make their life better or easier or more joyful. Something that mattered to them, not to me.

Change is hard. Exercise can be boring and there will be days when you don’t want to do it or don’t feel like it or the kids are sick, or the dog is sick, or that Netflix series is so stinking good. Knowing your Why can keep you on track. Getting clear on your Why will get you up off the couch when you don’t want to. You are the expert in your own life and body. Only you know Why you want to do something different. Start there.

People lit up when they told me that they wanted to be able to drop their son off at college without knee pain, they wanted to throw a softball with their granddaughter, they wanted to walk their dog, take a cruise with their husband, or my all-time favorite, feel good and move better in their meat suit. Yeah. Don’t we all?

The day after our hike, I spent the afternoon at the citywide Fall Festival in Basel with my niece and nephew. Walking up and down the steep, cobbled streets, going up and down stairs as we made our way to rides and food vendors and games was a nightmare for my legs. I couldn’t remember the last time I was that sore. I chuckled and cursed to myself as they ran off ahead of me, and I moved like a woman twenty years my senior. It wasn’t pretty, but I did it. Grateful to my body and fully aware of my Why. I’m hoping that the next time I want to skip my workout, I can remember how I felt during and after that hike. I have a better chance of getting it done than telling myself I “should” do it.

If you’re not where you want to be with respect to your mobility or strength, you’re not alone. And you don’t have to solve the problem on your own either. There are so many resources available to help you reach your goals. Before you start down the gazillions of health, wellness, and exercise rabbit holes, I encourage you to take some time, get quiet, be honest, and ask yourself…

What’s my WHY?  

I’d love to hear what you come up with!