A Recent Little Lesson in Moderation

Funny thing, I've been having a Freudian slip-of-the-mind as I thought about writing this next post - envisioning the title, I kept substituting the word "mediocrity" for moderation. This is interesting, because I think I may have a subconscious fear that moderation does lead to mediocrity, or at least that they are somehow related.

I've not done moderation very well in most sectors of my life; despite knowing that it doesn't always serve me well, my life philosophy and practice has been more like that well-known Edna St. Vincent Millay poem:
My candle burns at both ends;
It will not last the night;
But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends--
It gives a lovely light!
"First Fig" from A Few Figs from Thistles

So the reason that this issue raised itself to my consciousness recently is because of what I did last Friday, on my 37th birthday. Not because I ate too much incredible-tasting Greek food for dinner, and drank too much red wine (although I did both of these things), but because I way overdid it on my morning walk/jog.

I thought I was in decent shape because I have been doing intervals of fast walking and jogging on the treadmill (with incline) for some time. But this was outside on "Milwaukee's beautiful lakefront" - day #10 of being blissfully unemployed, fullfilling a long anticipated dream of being able to exercise in the late spring sunshine at any hour of the morning, not just at the crack of dawn and then be all rushed and stressed to get to work - and it just happened to be my birthday. It was perfect.

I breathed in the fresh breezes off the lake, tried to be as present and "in the moment" as possible, and just felt grateful to be alive to see another day, let alone another birthday. But I forgot to wear a watch or bring my cell phone, totally lost track of time, ended up running late (pun intended) for my lunch-date, and therefore jogged way longer and faster than I should have, just to get home with any time to spare.

The result being that I was sore as hell the next day, and hobbled around all weekend like an 85 year old with full body arthritis. A nice little lesson that I'm 37 now, not 27, the physique can't take the same beating it used to, nor recover as fast. And ultimately that a little moderation can go a long way towards saving you undue pain. There's nothing mediocre about sparing ourselves needless suffering!