Working on your mind and working on your body are not the same thing. Yes, they’re connected, but running, lifting, yoga, and movement live in one category, while writing, reading, and therapy live in another. Both are essential, but don’t confuse them. Building a relationship with your body starts in the mirror: look at yourself and say thank you. This machine has carried you this far.
Sure, you could have been stronger, faster, a gymnast, a skydiver, a fighter, you could have done a thousand things “better.” That’s just the mind complaining. If you want more and you’re capable of more, stop thinking and just do it. If you can’t, then lie back, close your eyes, and feel gratitude for everything your body has already given you. Gratitude, repeated again and again, builds the perspective that drives strength, resilience, and respect for the only body you’ll ever have.
I’ve been an athlete for a long time, but not for bragging rights. To me, anyone who shows up, running, lifting, yoga, or just moving consistently, is an athlete. The pros who get paid to play? That’s one type of athlete. But so is the person who chooses discipline, movement, and self-care every week.
Athleticism is a way of living. My walk to work is athletic. My yoga practice is athletic. Even shopping with my daughter is athletic. Yesterday I carried two 2.5-gallon water jugs, a heavy backpack, and grocery bags for five blocks, thirty pounds of uneven weight. I focused on posture, I breathed with intention, and I turned a chore into training. That’s the mindset: every moment is a chance to strengthen the body and sharpen the mind.
If I lived a thousand more years, I’d never reach the bottom of the mystery of the body. Just when you think you understand it, you face aging, constant change, and, if you’re an athlete, injury. That’s all part of the deal. The reason we exercise is simple: to keep moving for as long as we can.
The body mirrors the mind. The mind never stops, it works through sleep and dreams, but it still needs rest. The body is the same: always working, always needing recovery. The mind improves with better thinking; the body improves with better movement and deeper knowledge of how to move. We may be one of the few creatures that actually thinks about how we move, our alignment, our breathing, our stamina, our efficiency.
The truth is, every single day we can return to the fundamentals. Movement doesn’t just live in the gym, it lives in our walk to work, in the way we carry groceries, in every chore we do. Life itself is training if you approach it that way.
We can’t work every single muscle in our body every day, unless we had nothing else to do, and even then it would be nearly impossible. The major muscle groups, the thighs, hips, core, biceps, and shoulders, get plenty of work just from standing, walking, and moving through daily life. Smaller areas like the wrists, forearms, calves, and ankles can get overlooked. Hardly anyone notices your calves at the beach or compliments your wrists, so maybe we don’t think about them as much. Social patterns and personal taste push us to hyper-focus on the chest, abs, and butt. Some chase the muscle groups they struggle with most. But that kind of obsessive focus usually creates more stress than joy.
A little vanity, a little self-image, even a little competitiveness can be useful. I know in a crowded yoga class, I push myself 25% harder than I do when the room is empty. Back when I played ultimate frisbee, tossing a disc around alone barely made me move, but the moment I stepped into a game with teammates, rules, and a goal, I gave 110%.
I share this to show that exercise isn’t just about isolated muscles or chasing perfection. It’s about how we engage with movement, with others, and with ourselves. That’s what keeps it alive.
All my life I’ve had a core exercise to lean on. In my early 20s, it was rock climbing. In my 30s and 40s, it was Thai boxing, ultimate frisbee, and some weight training, though weights were always a supplement, never the center. For decades, when I couldn’t make it to a gym or a class, I relied on the basics: squats, push-ups, sit-ups, and a pair of 20–30 pound dumbbells I kept around for curls and presses. Today, in my late 40s and into my 50s, my main practice is yoga, specifically hot yoga, and I still like a high workload. I also walk everywhere in New York City, which makes me a natural walker. And if I’m near water, you can bet I’ll be swimming. Swimming is zero impact, no stomping, no pounding, no punching, just moving through liquid with resistance, breath, and relaxation. For me it’s pure therapy, and if you have the luxury to make it your core exercise, don’t waste it.
But health isn’t just one dimension. Longevity means balancing many categories. Physical fitness starts with movement, diet, and recovery. Mental and emotional fitness comes from writing, meditation, therapy, reading, and, for many, prayer. Relationships require constant energy, time with our partners, kids, friends, and family. Then there’s work, creativity, service, and the daily tasks of life: cleaning, maintaining property, tending to tools, staying connected to nature. Add hobbies on top of that and the plate is full. That’s the point: life will always demand a lot, and the body and mind must be trained to meet it.
We need the body to work for us. It gets us everywhere, yet we take our ability to move for granted. That’s why the health of the body and the health of the mind must be the top priority. The two are inseparable: if the body is weak, the mind will suffer; if the mind collapses, the body will follow. Using the body to calm the mind is smart. Using the mind to relax the body is smart. This is why I love yoga, it lets me work on both at the same time.
At the gym, it’s easy to zone out, blast music, and grind through reps. There’s nothing wrong with that, but I’d rather use my time to build strength while training focus and relaxation. In yoga, I pay attention to every detail, contracting my thighs, softening my hamstrings, linking breath to movement, practicing stamina while learning to stay calm under physical stress. I stretch, circulate blood, and engage everything: toes, feet, ankles, shins, calves, knees, thighs, hips, core, chest, shoulders, traps, back, and neck. Every part matters. We are not flat creatures with just a front; we are 360° beings. Every side needs attention.
Specific training has its place, if you’re a tennis player, your strength work should support your game, but in general, we all need the same foundation. We need strength to move in every axis of rotation. We need agility to react to unexpected movement, like lunging, twisting, or jumping to the side. We need balance to keep our structure steady. We need muscular endurance to keep going when the action gets intense, and we need flexibility and adaptability to stay resilient. This is the formula for health, longevity, and power: strength, endurance, balance, flexibility, and intelligent movement.
You don’t have to be a scientist of anatomy or chemistry to exercise, you just have to do it. What matters most is curiosity and the mental strength to work through discomfort, injury, and resistance. For some, this is obvious. For others, especially those who have avoided strenuous activity, it feels like torture. I love hard training now, but only because I conditioned myself over years to enjoy it. Some people are naturally drawn to movement, others are not, but either way, we all have to work at it as best we can.
I don’t like the word lazy. Let’s just say some people aren’t passionate about physicality, just as some aren’t passionate about reading. But both movement and learning are essential for survival and quality of life. If you’ve been sedentary for a long time, or you’re carrying extra weight, reflect on what this message means for you. There may be something holding you back from connecting with your body. Don’t overthink it, if you’re capable of moving, start today. Go for a walk. Take a yoga class. Ride a bike. Swim in a pool or the ocean. Hell, grab a shovel at the beach, dig a hole, and fill it back in. Just move.
If you’re not ready yet, then meditate, pray, and prepare your mind. Start slow, because injury is not fun and strength must be built gradually. Gentle practices like tai chi or yoga are powerful ways to begin, slow, mindful, rooted in breath, and compassionate to the body. If you’re already in great shape, take a bow and thank your body for its resilience. Don’t take it for granted. Praise the universe too, because whatever you believe, our very existence is a gift. Gratitude is the tone worth setting for life.
Movement and exercise are one of the best distractions from the dull moments of life and from obsessive thinking. Of course, exercise can become an addiction, used to repress negative thoughts and avoid real problems. If you’re skipping responsibilities, neglecting your family, or ignoring your bills just to train, that’s not discipline, that’s escape. But dedicating time every day to focused, deliberate movement that strengthens your body is no different than drinking water, eating healthy food, brushing your teeth, or getting good rest. It’s essential.
Some people grow up knowing this instinctively, often because of what they saw modeled in childhood. Others take longer to discover it. For me, it started small, push-ups as a teenager to blow off stress and because I liked how they made my chest look. By 21, I realized women were attracted to fit men, so I started going to the gym and playing sports. What began as vanity and social motivation became something deeper. Exercise gave me structure, helped me use my time productively, and, though I didn’t fully realize it at the time, it was regulating my anxiety. Back then, I just called it “relieving stress.” Now I know it was much more.
We call it “blowing off steam,” and in a sense it’s true. When you hit the gym and push heavy weight, you’re offsetting anxiety, anger, and other negative feelings. But if you’re not deliberate, if you’re not moving with the breath, releasing, forgiving, processing, and finding gratitude, then you’re only blowing off some steam while creating more at the same time. The real key is to be conscious of the effort: to connect movement with breath and saturate yourself in the joy of being alive in your body. That’s the gift. Even in stillness, lying in corpse pose, playing dead, we can use the body as a vehicle to quiet the mind. Not to erase it, not to shut it down, but to soften all the extra noise.
In my early years I didn’t understand this, and I missed something important. The greatest takeaway I can offer is this: use all exercise and daily movement as a way to quiet unnecessary mental activity. The first unnecessary activity is obsessing. The second is negativity. There’s nothing wrong with thinking, reflecting, or solving problems during a workout, you may even discover great ideas. But the main focus of the mind in movement should be presence and gratitude. Whether it’s yoga, tai chi, or a nature hike, start with the breath. Feel the joy of oxygen filling your lungs. Then notice everything: the colors, the sounds, the scent of the earth, the feel of the breeze on your skin, the pull of gravity in each step. Thank your body when it’s strong and pain-free. Thank the sweat.
Write about your relationship with exercise, whether you love it or hate it. Make it honest. If you hate it because of cramps or stiffness, know that the answer is more practice, the body adapts faster than you think. If you hate it because it feels boring, make it fun. You’re an adult, and you have unlimited ways to move. What matters is building a solid, truthful relationship with your body through movement, and that relationship, when rooted in gratitude, will carry you everywhere.