The old saying states: change is a constant factor. Lately, I had to adapt to change in one major area: health. To this end, I had to imbibe the act of exercise; jogging and brisk-working basically. Usually, I set out at the crack of dawn and return about 30 or 40 minutes later. I had kept to a regular location for about two years.
One day, on a Saturday, I decided to explore other locations. As I sauntered further, the hill flattened out; alas, I was in the midst of some turf and gallant youths at the summit. The drills for the day ranged from plank, sit-up, press-up; a long list indeed.
By noon that day, I experienced fatigue, and in fact felt sleepy. I thought it was the fallout of the previous day’s cramped office schedules. I would soon understand. By the following day, I hardly could leave the bed; all my joints aching, obviously out of being strained. But I loved the company and the chants that go with every drill. Hence, two days later, I headed the same direction. The fallout was same; fatigue and drowsy feeling at about noon. However, this was a distraction, as it was on a Tuesday afternoon, and such days were the busiest. I became perturbed. My honest judgment for that day was that I underperformed.
After the drills for the day during the third visit, a young man walked up to the centre to psyche everyone for toughing it through, and went ahead to stress that the much anticipated camp would commence exactly a week later in Mogadishu Cantonment, Zaria. It suddenly dawned on me that these guys were would-be military men, and I had been overworking myself to follow through with all the drills as though interested in joining the military as well. That was quite foolish; I was just a folk interested in keeping fit. From that day on, I toed that location fits and all, and as per the drills, I followed only a few!
Sometime back, I read the story of the proverbial bumble bee that saw other bees climbing a hill, and was curious to find out, hence followed suit. On reaching the summit, the bee realized that there was nothing special up there; these bees merely coast down the other way after reaching the peak. Needless to say he was disappointed.
This also brings to mind the story of a young boy who was fond of seeing a preacher hold his head with his two palms. Years later, the boy began to emulate the preacher by acting same way while preaching. He presumed it was the preacher’s way of catching fun. Unfortunately, it was far from that; he later learnt that the preacher actually battled a migraine headache once in a while, and using his two palms to hold his head was the only way he got relief. Sad revelation, isn’t it?
These three scenarios are a telling of how we sometimes miss the point in life when we are driven by competition, when we do not ask questions and when we lack a sense of purpose and direction in life. By following through with every drill with those young men, instead of being reshaped, refreshed and invigorating, I was often exasperated, therefore lost concentration. I ended up with what is known as a Dutch disease; getting the negative end. Since backtracking from those military drills, my moments of exercise have been so exhilarating, and I always look forward to it. When next you see someone embarking on an adventure that appears weird, wild and unthinkable, wait a minute to ask questions, and you may end up saving your energy for a worthier course. Peace!
