Modifications

It had been coming on for a while.  The pain in my hands, wrists, and elbows, that is.  The cramping, numbness, weakness, aching... The inability to un-clench my grip on things-- a spoon, a pen, a toy...

My 20-minute Bikini Body Mommy workouts were KILLING me.  Planks, push-ups, mountain climbers... You name it, it seemed like EVERY part of the workout included putting tons of pressure on my hands, wrists, and elbows.  And I began to dread them.  Those workouts that had my body changing and my mood lifting were making me ache for days, and since they're 6 days a week, the ache on top of repeated ache made me want to quit.

And I did.  For a little while.

And then I thought, I signed up for 90 days.  I'm trying to become not-a-quitter. Get back on the wagon.  Just make some modifications.

And the nasty mean voice in my head said, You knew you'd never follow-through anyway.  You might as well just give up.  You know you can't finish anything.  And you're already behind like a million days.  There's no way you can catch up.  Besides, modifications are for wimps.  You'll look like a weenie who can't do it right.  Either suck it up and do it right or don't do it at all.

So I thought, That's interesting, Mean Voice, but you're wrong.  And no one is watching me work out,  unless I work out on the trail by my house in which case I've been looking like an idiot doing my squats, jumping jacks, and burpees in the middle of the trail anyway, so you're making a moot point, Mean Voice.   

Then I came across the "Start where you are. Use what you have. Do what you can." quote from Arthur Ashe.  

I took his advice.

I modified.

It was still a good workout.  My wrists, elbows, and hands were in less pain when I was done.  I didn't have to all-out skip anything.

Take that, Mean Voice.

Now, I wonder if this applies to so many other things in life.  I've always had this, "If I can't do it perfectly, I'm not going to do it at all" type of attitude with everything, but it hasn't served me well lately.  Mostly it's turned into a lot of "I'm not going to do it at all"s.  

Can "good enough" really be good enough?  Can doing it "mostly right" for good be better than doing it perfectly for 15 minutes then quitting?

It's worth a try, I guess.  After all, if I wind up failing at being "good enough," I can always be perfect instead.