The long way, the short cut, and the meaning of life

Shortcuts

I’ve done literally thousands of hours of yoga, and my hips refuse to open. The rest of my body has unwound (to a degree), but my hips stay stubbornly tight.

For years I’ve dreamed of performing a standing split. One foot is on the ground, the other pointed straight into the air. It’s been on my vision board.

And still my standing split remains a 90-100 degree angle (105 on a good day).

I was convinced that I was close to a breakthrough. A small adjustment, a new routine, a month’s work and I’m there.

While there are no shortcuts, Good Coaching is the next best thing.

I bought training program after training program that sold me that promise. I could get there in just 30 days because I believed I was so close and their program would unlock me. Others would be foolish to believe the hype. Not me. I put my hours in on the mat. That approach deepened my other poses. It would work here.

I learned a valuable lesson. A lesson so common it has become cliche: The longest way round is the shortest way home.

So what’s the long way?

For 5 weeks I’ve been training my mobility for over an hour a day. It is humbling, tolerably painful work. I sit in deep stretches for upwards of 10 minutes, and then perform isometric strength exercises at damn near the end range of motion.

If that’s someone’s idea of a shortcut I’m just not cut out to be mobil.

This is the long way to opening my hips. The sucky way. The way that few take because the ask is incredibly high.

It looks a bit like the long way to lose weight.

It looks a lot like the long way to get strong.

It’s painstaking. It’s often boring. It looks like the long way to accomplish anything special.

But here’s the thing about long ways and short cuts:

Take the shortcut you learn the shortcut.

Take the long way you learn yourself.

I’m reminded of a line from one of my favorite movies: Without Limits. ‘Running, one might say, is basically an absurd past time upon which to be exhausting ourselves. But if you can find meaning in the kind of running you have to do to stay on this team, chances are you’ll find meaning in another absurd past time: life.”

Mobility means something to me. I can’t articulate why beyond something I’ve said time and time again in this blog: beautiful movement makes you feel beautiful.

I may never get to that standing split; but that seems besides the point.