I looked stared into the mirror, horrified at what I saw.
My reflection was there, alright. But there wasn’t much to it.
I could see my entire ribcage, bones shrouded by skin. My arms appeared meek and wiry.
I looked severely malnourished. And although I knew I wasn’t – I devoured pizza and Pepsi just as much as the next teenager – I also realized I needed to make a change.
It was a struggle helping my parents lug groceries into the house. And it would be a struggle driving baseballs into the outfield for the Junior Varsity team if I didn’t bulk up.
So, I hit the gym.
That first time in my high school weight room was an adventure. My Physical Education teacher gave me a brief tour and a primer on etiquette. Then he let me be.
I bounced from machine to machine, and free weight after free weight. I knocked out reps like I was running out of time.
It all seemed too mundane, too easy. And the sight of my ribcage in the locker room mirror afterward confirmed this feeling.
I needed to turn things up, I told myself. Maybe I’d hit the weights twice as hard the next day.
This plan seemed futile the next morning, when I woke up sore all over. All those rapid-fire reps had taken their toll.
Still, I returned to the gym to lift. That day, and the next. And the one after that.
And by the time spring arrived, that ghastly appearance in the mirror was no more.
I had notable biceps, pecs, and even abs. And that muscle mass has remained with me ever since.
The vibes are off.
I never heard this phrase growing up. But I hear it plenty now.
It seems to be a code word for young adults. A cryptic excuse for opting out of a gathering or obligation.
People will bail on parties, dinner dates, and hobbies when the vibes are off. They’ll skip out on a workday just because they aren’t feeling up to it.
This is not a new phenomenon by any means. But it’s more prevalent than ever these days.
There are valid explanations for all this. A mental health reckoning has changed the ways we address concerns of the mind. And advances in technology have reduced the essentiality of in-person interactions.
We no longer fear losing our job if we get to work 10 minutes late. We no longer feel we’ll be shamed for missing out on a social activity.
The vibes are off excuse provides legitimate protection. And it’s changed the way we operate.
Now, this shift has not always been smooth for everyone. Many businesses have had to reckon with strange demand patterns, as consumers determine whether the vibes are good or not. Many employers have been left to guess as to who will be reporting to work for them on any given day.
And all of this has led to plenty of anger and resentment. Practitioners of the vibes are off approach have been labeled as lazy, selfish, or untrustworthy.
I get it. As a proud purveyor of The Lunch Pail Mentality, I am no fan of half-measures.
But I’m not here to hurl another tomato at those exhibiting behavior.
My concern is far more existential.
Let’s return to that morning in high school when I woke up sore.
I’d encountered aching muscles and joints before. I’d spent a season on the school’s cross-country team, and I’d been floored by the flu when I younger.
But this was different. I woke up feeling like I’d been hit by a truck.
Getting to the bathroom was an adventure. Getting dressed was another one. Everything hurt like it had never hurt before.
There was no way I could lift weights in this state. I was sure of it.
So, when I got to school, I told my Physical Education teacher as much. He laughed heartily.
Oh, you can still hit the weights, he said. Fight through that soreness. It’s the only way you build muscle.
The teacher explained that no one walked out of the gym looking like Johnny Bravo. Not after a single session, anyway.
It would take repeat trips to the weight room to see results. It would take day after day of breaking down muscle and rebuilding it in bulk.
I would need to embrace the pain and endure the monotony to achieve my goals. And it started right here.
I could have walked away at that moment. I could have determined the prize wasn’t worth the process.
But I kept sticking with it. And I ended up attaining my goals.
I wonder sometimes how others might handle that same situation these days. I fear they’d walk away.
You see, there’s a 100% chance that the vibes will be off during a workout journey. Rebuilding our body after we intentionally broke it is an inherently uncomfortable process. And discomfort is something we’re now well versed in avoiding.
But the opportunity cost of this opt out is massive. Not only do we miss out on some needed muscle, but we turn down the sensation of delayed gratification.
When we pull the plug, we learn little about enduring the struggle to reap the rewards. And we don’t get to discover how much sweeter those rewards taste after the strife.
We cut ourselves off from an entire class of attainment. We limit our world of accomplishments to the low-hanging fruit.
That is the crux of my concern with this opt-out movement. It’s less about what we deny others, and more about what we deny ourselves.
Namely, the chance to grow. The opportunity to expand our horizons and diversify our knowledge.
We don’t get there by turning our back on the gauntlet. Or by burying our head in the sand.
We get there by sticking with it. By committing to the journey as part of the destination.
We get there by embracing the grind, no matter what the vibes say.
This quest starts as an individualistic one. But if enough of us follow the path, it can change the fortunes of our society.
We’ll open ourselves to greater opportunities. We’ll attain more of our potential. And we’ll all be better for it.
So, let’s commit to sticking with it. In the weight room and in countless situations outside of it. And let’s follow through on that resolution.
Our future lies in the balance.