Res ipsa loquitur and the law of diminishing returns

Res ipsa loquitur or the thing speaks for itself: an innocent bit of Latin stuck in my head since it was taught to our class by a substitute teacher sometime back in 1981.

Of all the things I've learned, this bit of language resides on a patch of land in my brain that I still have access to but that entire year of trigonometry-poof! The random bits that remain of lessons learned and problems solved give me pause for concern. Our mental capacity is supposed to be very big but I have a feeling it is like the law of diminishing returns: the more you put in, the less you can get out!

When I decided I wasn't going back to podiatry school, I felt a tremendous sense of lightness. I had been going to school since I was 2 1/2. I was 24 years old and had felt like I'd been in school long enough. Particularly since I'd lost the passion for that particular pursuit-feet: ewww-I was more than relieved when the school said take a year off and come back. I said okay but I actually knew then I wasn't ever going back.

That's when my life began in some ways. I was free to experience a variety of things and there were no books to tell me what was what --res ipsa loquitur-- things began to speak for themselves. I became a trained step instructor and taught classes (sometimes seven days a week) at the local Women's Workout World. I took great pleasure in buying my leotards and workout gear. I made up routines for my step classes. I picked out music and thought deeply about how to get around the boards in a way that was fun and challenging for my students. I loved when I got the ladies sweating and smiling and I liked the club manager Maria, who taught a reluctant me how to open the club at six AM.

I got so into teaching that I began to think of getting competitive. That was until I went to the fitness expo and saw and met some of the people who were deep into that industry at the time. These serious, finely chiseled women and men competing with their aerobic routines and double Velcro strapped Reebok's were a sight to behold. Combining gymnastics and the perkiness of Mary Lou Retton with a four riser step board I met the woman who would undo all my plans. You have to understand; the blond hair, the calves!!! Anyway, after her first double back, I knew then I was no match for that type of energy. I could see there was not only a fondness for the sport, but that she saw each movement as a way to become a commodity. She was branding herself in the world of fitness and I knew that wasn't where I belonged; at all.

Shortly thereafter my interest in waking at five AM and teaching multiple classes per day because they didn't have enough instructors began to wear on me--the law of diminishing returns--and soon I was burnt out on WWW. It wasn't long before I threw in the proverbial towel. To stay any longer would have been bad for everyone. I didn't miss it either.

In the end, you just have to be aware, listen to the cues being sent to and through you. There's a naturalness to life if you're open to living that way, read: intuitively. I work on doing things that feel right most of the time; I mean really feel right to my head and heart. As long as my moral compass works, that's all I need to stay centered but live passionately. I keep my fun where it belongs and business where it belongs and that's why moderation has never been sexier.