Inchworms in Sneakers

Here’s this week’s reflection. I hope it resonates with you and ask that, if you enjoyed, please comment and share on your social media. Heartfelt thanks for all your support!

Keeping the light on for you,

Carol

The inchworm in front of me reaches forward and with a firm grip, loops its tiny mass to heave up its rear, and reaches forward again in what seem painful repetition. At 25 millimeters long – roughly an inch – it crawls literally one inch at a time. While its destination is likely unknown, the tiny creature simply moves ahead at its steady, inch-wormy pace. Clearly not a Type A organism seeking shortcuts.

I happen upon these little loopers with fair regularity in our rural setting before they morph into any one of several different moth species. Recently, while stretching outside after a (rusty) jog, this OCD gal noticed said little green guy traversing our deck railing and it got me thinking, as random things often do. Just like me, that worm seemed to be working really hard dragging its small arse along. And I wondered if, just like me, it experienced this as work, or simply pulled itself along because that’s what it’s supposed to do. 

It reminded me of the old saying: “It’s hard by the yard but it’s a cinch by the inch.” Not to be trite –and perhaps I was finally ripe to notice– but that little worm and its larger metaphorical lesson lit up my tired head. Along with it came a smattering of self-compassion for my decades-long mental snarl of perceived lack of athletic prowess. 

Although cute when small and green, inchworms eventually morph into moths, annoy the heck out of us in summer, and fly with a dizzying absentmindedness toward any light source. So too, has been my undisciplined, inconsistent and overly perfectionist approach to exercise and athletic greatness, (thank you, exhausting compulsive delusions of grandeur). Fitness has always been the recklessly darting swarm of light-searching moths in my soul. Sedentary relapses have been plentiful; while I see a lit target in the distance, the path is blurred by flying kamikazes of negativity.  

Aside from random personal abuses, the swarm offers a glut of excuses. Inclement weather? Not going outside. Tired? No workout – one must rest, after all. Global pandemic? AHDM – “Acute Hunker Down Mode.” When I do venture out, the seethe of Imposter Syndrome blinds and reminds me that I weigh too much, I’m uncoordinated and fail to run in straight lines (it’s true), or I am simply an overall hot mess in running shoes. And before you ask, yes, I have worked out indoors and with a plethora of YouTubers, but to no avail. Even journaling to sort out my head has yielded precious little as to why I seem unable to include a regular fitness routine into my life, despite being a healthcare provider.

While my personal expectations have been ridiculously flawed, I’ve yet to ditch the dogma. The struggle has justifiably been REAL. A good (incredibly athletic) friend of mine once coyly (tongue-in-cheek) offered: “Perhaps you think too much?” I must finally admit she could be on to something. Yes, I just admitted that out loud.

Every overachiever worth their compulsions knows that unless an activity is extreme it just doesn’t count toward (insert unrealistic milestone here). But that humble inchworm, who doesn’t give a loop, goes about its simple onward motion, and will indeed fly one day, whether it’s smart enough to inherently realize it or as a lucky surprise because it’s not about the glory of earning its wings. It’s all about moving forward. On the day of my jog, the teeming throng in my brain settled enough that the lesson – just an inch at a time – was now clearly, and fully illuminated.

I’ll no longer curse the moths, for I now know just how arduous yet respectful their journey is. Looking toward light isn’t a bad habit. I’ll keep lacing my sneakers, propel myself forward, and have my hinder bring up the rear. It won’t be pretty or fast. But with habitual movement of any kind, maybe, just maybe, my metamorphosis will finally be the health I desire.