No Pain No Gain

So you finally get it together and decide to begin an exercise program. It almost does not matter whether it is walking, jogging, swimming, practicing yoga or step aerobics, weight-training or following some other plan. As long as it has gotten you off the couch and onto your feet in some active way, it is a good thing.

Perhaps this time, you really get into the program and stay with it for a while. Your muscle tone and overall fitness improve, your cholesterol numbers head in the right direction, your pulse slows, your weight goes down while your energy goes up, your self-image improves and your sense of well-being becomes cheerful. You may even feel as though you can keep going like that for years to come.

Then something happens that, at least temporarily, derails your plan. It could be an injury that forces you to put your program aside for a while. It could be a death or crisis in the family that not only disrupts your routine but also so demoralizes you that you have no heart for the physical activity. It could be the arrival of the Thanksgiving-to-New Year's holiday season, with all the parties and the abundance of rich food in the house. If your exercise program is an outdoor one - such as cross-country skiing - the arrival of warmer weather can force a halt. If you are like me, I am a fair weather runner. When the cold starts, I stop. It could even be a happy family event, such as a wedding, that requires a lot of your time and causes you to set aside your fitness plan for a while.

Whatever the case, in a very short time, all those physiological and fitness gains start to reverse. A cyclist says he finds regular cycling good for his body, mind and spirit. He also says it takes only about two weeks off the bike before he starts turning back into a "slug." That is why, during the cold months, most serious cyclists either switch to a winter activity such as skiing or spinning, head south and keep riding, or learn how to dress for the weather and ride through the winter. 

What the biker calls "turning into a slug," can also be described as the process of decay, which is a natural phenomenon. Most things, it seems, do not stay the same; if they are not improving, they are decaying. In the vocabulary of sports and fitness training, that is often expressed as "no pain/no gain," but the truth is, it is also no pain/no maintain. As bodybuilder Tom Venuto puts it, "The ultimate truth is, you are either moving forward or moving backward; growing or dying. There's no such thing as comfortably maintaining."

In fact, Venuto also applies the no pain/no gain philosophy to endeavors beyond physical. He says,  

"To grow, you must step above past achievements; beyond your perceived boundaries and limits. That means stepping out of the known, into the unknown; out of the familiar and into the unfamiliar; out of the comfortable into the uncomfortable. You must get out of your comfort zone." 

Do you think such a statement is true? 

If there is no pain, is there really no gain? 

Yeah, it really is. Of course, you can find studies online proclaiming the contrary, saying that the no pain/no gain idea is a "myth." Usually, however, the people making this claim also want you to buy their program that supposedly will make you fit with little or no effort - all for only three easy payments of $59.99.

The life-journey of every human being involves pain. We may wonder why. We may rebel against it. However, the harsh reality is that living things struggle and suffer to maintain life. Often, such pain deepens the experience and appreciation of life.

A statement by Henry Wordsworth Longfellow gives me pause. 

If we could read the secret history of our enemies, we would find in each man's life sorrow and suffering enough to disarm all hostility. 

Paul, beginning in Romans 8:17, says that we are heirs of God, joint-heirs with Christ, but only if we suffer with him so that God might bring us glory with Christ. He will stress that what we suffer now is not worth comparing to the glory that shall be. In fact, creation suffers and groans, awaiting the redemption of humanity. Every part of the created order experiences decay. The destiny of creation is life with God and fellowship with God. Paul challenges his readers to expand their conceptual horizons and place chronological time and personal experience within the context of eternity. Paul invites his readers to catch a glimpse of the "big picture." God, through the Spirit of Jesus Christ, has freed humanity. God, through the Spirit of Jesus Christ, is also effecting the liberation and redemption of the entire created order. Not only are persons enslaved, but the whole creation. Suffering unites all of creation. Human beings are to have dominion, yes, but they are to do so recognizing this bond they have all creation.

I am not trying to explain suffering. I am saying that suffering and pain in life is part of the training we experience that will reveal who we are. Does pain deepen our character, help us appreciate life, and even go deeper with God?

Lesson from tennis

When I was around twenty years old, while attending college at Indiana Wesleyan, someone introduced me to tennis. I fell in love with the game immediately. However, I struggled because I did not immediately hit the ball with top spin. One day, after some instruction, it happened. I hit the ball with top spin, and experienced what it was like to do so. From then on, my game improved. I needed to take another major step with the serve, of course, but it was all much fun.

            Among the aspects of the game to which I had to become used to were unforced errors. By that, tennis players mean points your opponent receives, not because he or she made a good play, but because you missed a relatively easy shot. The unforced error in tennis admits that the opponent does not always make a good shot in winning the point. Sometimes, the reason for failure to make the point is in us. When I play tennis, I have to accept that I will make plenty of errors like that.

            Of course, tennis professionals do not make many such errors. They make so few unforced errors that they can count them.

            Jana Novotna, of the Czech Republic, a player who at one time was ranked second in the world and who would — before her career was over — earn more than $11 million on the circuit, was just five points away from history. Leading 4-1 in the final set of the 1993 Wimbledon women’s championship, she was about to upset the legendary Steffi Graf.

            Novotna seemed confident — playing smart and aggressive in front of the center court crowd with members of the British royal family looking on. She had just hit a wicked backhand that skimmed the top of the net and fell short on Graf’s side, catching Steffi flat-footed. 40-30. Leading in the third and decisive set, 4-1, and one point away from taking the game, one game away from taking the set, one point from taking the match — thereby capturing the holy grail of tennis.

            Then it happened.

            Her serve for game point went straight into the net. The next toss and strangely halfhearted serve had the same result. Double fault.

            On the next point, she reacted slowly to a high shot from Graf and shanked the return. The next shot again went straight into the net. Suddenly, the set was at 4-3. Then 4-4. Then 4-5. Novotna began to crumble. Minutes before, she was a world-beater, and now she was playing more and more like a beginner with every shot. At match point for Graf, Novotna hit a low, cautious, shallow lob that Graf smashed for the winner. Game, set, match.

            At the awards ceremony, Novotna leaned over to the Duchess of Kent to receive the runner-up trophy and the white-haired royal whispered something into the devastated tennis player’s ear. Then, in a moment of compassion, the Duchess pulled Novotna’s head down on to her delicate shoulder and the young player began to sob.

            What happened? Officially, Novotna’s collapse had to do with what tennis statisticians officially deem as “unforced errors.” Throughout sports, we have the phenomenon of the choke. Something happens mentally, and the mind takes the body down the path toward failure.

            Greg Norman, “The Shark,” had a seemingly insurmountable six-stroke lead over Nick Faldo going into the final round of the 1996 Masters Golf tournament. A short shot on the unforgiving ninth hole at Augusta caused something in Norman to snap. He began to hit shots into the water, missed short putts, and shot bogey golf for the rest of the round. By the time he and Faldo walked up to the 18th hole, Nick had a four-stroke lead. When it was over, mercifully, the victorious Faldo embraced Norman in a gesture of compassion. “I don’t know what to say ... I feel horrible about what happened. I’m so sorry — I just want to give you a hug.” With that, both men began to cry.

            The 2004 New York Yankees: Up three games to none in the AL Championship Series against the Boston Red Sox and going home for game number 4. However, they lose. Boston wins, and then goes on to win the series against St. Louis for their first World Series title in over 80 years.

            Consider an industry where perfection is critical. None of us would want to be on the receiving end of an unforced error by a pharmacist. Many companies pay the same bill twice. Insurance companies often misrate drivers. Companies lose customers all the time because of little mistakes.

            In the sports world, examples abound where good players suddenly go bad. The stakes might be high on the court or on the field; however, unforced errors can have even more serious consequences in business and in other areas of life.

            The unforced error in tennis is a way of saying something like, “My bad.” It was my fault. We need that type of instinct in us spiritually as well. Of course, we can always find reasons we have done something wrong. Yet, spiritually, we need to take responsibility for who we are and the decisions we have made. Romans 8:1-11 uses the language of responsibility, where we set our minds on the things of the flesh, which leads to death, or the Spirit, which leads to life and peace. Paul refuses to let us off the hook when it comes to the fruit of our lives.

            I still love tennis, even if I do not play as much as I did when younger. I love tennis, even when I often have unforced errors. Even the unforced errors are part of the process of learning to play tennis well. We need to have enough insight, however, to know if our choices in the game of life are leading to death or to life. What fruit is coming into your life as a result of the decisions you have made?