By now, almost all of us in this country are aware of the health crisis that exists. Obesity even in the youngest has skyrocketed in the past few decades. Type 2 diabetes rates (once called adult-onset diabetes) are at a record high for all ages. We as a country spend more on healthcare than anyone else in the world and get some of the worst results. I could go on but safe to say we are all tired of hearing about the woes.

Amid all the bad news, I have a confession to make. I hate exercise, or working out, as you might say. For those who have read my previous writings or know of our mission, this might seem surprising to you. So let me explain.

It’s not that I hate the act of exercising my body (and mind). It’s that I don’t like the term exercise itself (or anything related) and the connotation it carries. And not only do I dislike it, although admittedly I have used it many times before (and probably will to some degree) — I think the term itself and our perspective around it is a huge reason why we are in such a bad situation in this country. 

Unlike many other places in the world, and certainly unlike much of what existed previous to our modern times, exercise today is often regarded as an exclusive commodity. But unfortunately, for various reasons, the notion of exercise has become dichotomized, compartmentalized and “obligatized” (my new word) in a way that has increasingly created barriers (mental, physical and logistic) for people to be as active as we are designed to be. It has led us to believe that the only activity worth having is the kind of movement that is carved out of an otherwise busy schedule, often costs us a reasonable (or not) amount of money, and can be quantified in memberships, calories, minutes and inches. 

Don’t get me wrong. I am a super-busy guy who believes that not carving out time for regular movement is a huge mistake, a culprit of many of our woes and that regular activity is one of the most essential things in the universe. Truly, we move therefore we are, even if our movements are significantly restricted by injury or disability. But in the process of making a case for prioritizing movement just as much as we prioritize our work and other entertainment, I think we have done a massive disservice in regard to a fundamental problem that exists beneath so many of our health woes. 

Simply put, never in the history of our world has a group of people burned so few calories in comparison to what they have consumed. It’s not just that the restaurant business has taken off like a rocket to nowhere; the grocery expenditures (and I am not talking about rising costs) are climbing just behind them. Meanwhile, we as a country keep trying to find ways to motivate more people to exercise more often. And despite billions of dollars spent, it’s not working for many reasons, not the least of which involves the allure of the online world for everything from buying to entertaining to networking to being (or whatever we think this is). 

Last fall, I attended what has long been one of the biggest rivalry matchups of the year, the Mater Dei vs. Reitz High School football game. Held in the historic Reitz Bowl, it was a gorgeous evening pitting two teams that had only lost a collective three games all season. The game came down to the final seconds, after (unfortunately as an MD grad) Reitz stormed back from 10 points down to take the lead with less than 90 seconds to play. All was perfect except for one gaping problem: the stands weren’t even half full. Years and decades prior, as detailed by my uncle who went to high school in the 1970s, not only were the stands often full, but even the sloping, grassy area next to the stands was adorned with rabid fans hoping to cheer on their team. But in recent years, it has been obvious that people aren’t showing up like they used to, just like they stopped showing up years ago at Wesselman Par 3, the only 18-hole par-3 course in the state, which the city of Evansville was forced to shut down.

You might be wondering: What does a football game on a Friday night have to do with my disdain for our perspective toward exercise (especially when adding a slice of pizza and an ice cream cone doesn’t exactly evoke images of fitness)? The reality is that all activity remains activity, and all activity burns calories and activates our minds and systems to an extent that inactivity does not. A simple walk to the grocery store to get a few items, or down to the corner pizza place to secure the pies. Raking the yard, gardening, going outside to throw a football, or even hitting a few golf balls on a Friday night (back when the lights were on). Or maybe even a run down to see a family member or friend who lives around the corner, or simply walking to school much like our predecessors did. It all remains movement no matter how we categorize it. 

Don’t get me wrong. There are benefits to prolonged physical activity involving sustained elevation of heart rate and respiration. But what other people and countries have figured out, which we in the U.S. have largely lost in awareness and execution, is that when you build in activity as an essential part of our lives, it gets so much easier to pursue a healthy balance of calories in, and calories out. Yet when our perspective has become that exercise or working out is only worthwhile when it is a carved-out commodity, we get stuck. Especially if we can’t find or prioritize the time to do this, which leads us to believe the rest of what we do doesn’t matter physically and psychologically (which activity hugely influences), putting us in a serious pickle (especially if we eat a bunch of them). But if we saw all activity, even getting up from the couch to turn the TV channel, as worthwhile and valuable to the moving people we are, then it would be a monstrous step in redefining just how we go about approaching the health crisis that exists today. 

Truth be told, I don’t hate exercise. I actually like it now more than ever, even though it can be hard, uncomfortable, and inconvenient. I like it because of what it offers me during the activity and when I am not active. And I don’t see it as an isolated part of my day, but rather as one link of a continuous chain that occurs from the moment I wake up in the morning to the moment I go to bed at night. Whereas I used to only regard my “scheduled workouts” as having real value, the last couple of decades have transformed my perspective. Just the walk to the drinking fountain is a gift, and also kind of compelling. I wonder where my next movement will lead.

At the beginning of Lent, we were asked to consider the timeless phrase, “Dust you are, and to dust you will return.” It reminds us that at the core of our being, we have been created by God from a cosmos that is built on many principles, one of which is that we are a people of movement, and that deeply ingrained in our biology is a need to move often and regularly as the Lord would have us do.

As we go forward and submit ourselves to our Lenten discipline, all designed to bring us closer to him and his design for us, let us consider that in God’s eyes, the only exercise truly ordained is the exercise of our will to align with his, no matter the minute, hour or day.