Commitment.

What's the difference between commitment and routine? Is it that I have a commitment to feed my dogs and a routine for doing so? Can you have one without the other?

While I may be a complex human being, I have a pretty simple life. I don't like the feeling of chaos and stress so I take care when saying what I will or will not do; I have "no's" at easy reach, and think about what's at stake if I come upon a "yes." I've learned to measure my energy and desire to do things, see people, or take on new tasks. And, whew, it sure has taken me a long while to feel comfortable with this, with basically my having a conversation with myself about how I might feel if I do or do not do say 'yes' to a request; as if my life, my energy, my comfort is less important than someone else's. But you know that story, right?

Why is this? Well, part is my own belief about the importance of being reliable. Part is growing up in a family where there was great emphasis on follow through. And then there is the pesky deal about being a girl, where a "no" can ruin your ability to be accepted or be "normal." I mean, girls are supposed to be all about the "yes." "Will you do this for me?" "Well, yes, of course, because if I say no you might not like me." "Will you put yourself second for your family...your job....your kids....your role in the society?" "Why yes, of course, for if I should say 'no' what would you think of me? What if you thought of me as 'selfish'?" Stuff like that.

Carol Gilligan wrote about this in her work, "In A Different Voice." Not about yes's and no's exactly, but about how girls find their identity in relationship. There can't be a lot of "no I won't" if you want your relationships to work. It's a risky business to put yourself first.

But, I digress. Really, this thought began when I opened my cupboard to get my morning medicine for my thyroid, the one I take routinely (have for close to 20 years now), and thought about how I'm not as committed to my calcium and vitamin D3. I can't take them all at the same time, so that explains why the latter couldn't just become part of the regime of the former. I am what we call, "medication compliant" when it comes to the thyroid hormones but not so much with the Ca and the D3.

This lead me to think about my new relationship with Chris Morgeson, the trainer dude who, like I said in an earlier post, has qualified eight times in the World Championship Hawaii Ironman competition. That's two miles of ocean swimming, 112 miles on a bike (often in terrible head winds and always in heat) and then 26.2 miles of running. All in one day. Imagine the commitment to be able to do this. Jeeze.

Okay, more digression just took place. Mr. Morgeson told me part of "enjoyment and compliance" involved keeping a training journal. Now, I know how to keep these, I still have mine from all the years and years I committed to cycling. The pages are all funky from the sweat that dripped off my hands while I was writing things down at the gym. Today will be day four of my new journal, the one I am ultimately keeping for myself, but also the one that Mr. Ironman will be going over with me. I have to write down what I've eaten/ingested, my activity/exercise, my sleep, and how long I've stretched for. Nothing like writing all this down to bring awareness to the task or to the piece of toast I'm eating.

My process goes like this: I really like keeping track of things, so the act of writing it down is a huge pleasure, an easy commitment and routine. Okay, so the easy part, the enjoyable part, is keeping the training journal. But what does one write in this kind of journal? Things that have actually happened. Right, so then I have to make sure I have something worth writing down for "activity/exercise" not to mention writing in each thing I'm eating. Yikes. This is getting real.

Perhaps it's accountability first, and then the effect of the activity later? Now that's worth pondering. Did you notice part of the daily confession includes "stretching"? Ugh. I love the result, but really do not enjoy the process, and I find it easy to "forget". So, last night I thought, "I'll just cheat and say I did." I live alone so it's not like anyone could tell on me. My dogs certainly will keep it to themselves for fear of missing a meal should I retaliate. But, as I am wont to do, I noticed the thought, the urge, and took note; then I stretched. The commitment to this is to do it no matter what. The commitment I made to myself and the accountability I have to Mr. Heavy Metal Drummer Ironman Coach is why I signed up for this, right? It's not just for the result, it is for the process.

In therapy, most people come in with a goal in mind. They want to feel better, get their partner to change, or my favorite, "just be happy." It's another post (or three) to write about Americans and our notion of happiness, but it is what most folks say they want. Suggesting that learning to live with the hard feelings, the depth, the shitty stuff that happens in the world never goes over very well, so, in the beginning, I keep that to myself, that there is no "happy ever after."

In therapy, the process becomes the mission. If a client wants a particular something or other to happen, to feel better or perhaps less scared, then it will be their commitment to the process, to stick it out no matter what, that makes the difference. Just like in the world of fitness, nothing comes easy and there are no corners to cut if you want what you say you want. You can't just write down that you went to therapy, you actually have to do it. It doesn't mean life is drudgery, it means that life is life and if you take the easy road you don't get the prize you are looking for.

Tonight when I'm doing my stretching-fifteen full minutes-it will be about commitment because it sure isn't about routine. I'll think about my mom who says things like, "I can do anything for 15 minutes, an hour, a day, a week," when it comes to going to the dentist or having surgery or sitting through the symphony she really doesn't like. It's the cloth I am cut from, the one that won't let me cheat in my training journal, damn it.

How about you? Is routine simple and commitment difficult? The other way around? Am I the only one who spends this much time pondering such things?

Quite likely, I suppose.