It’s dang hard not judging myself by my looks.
I grew up in the ‘60s and ‘70s with Muscle And Fitness magazine and Bruce Lee. Frank Frazetta and Boris Vallejo. Elric, the albino prince of Melniboné, and John Carter, the clean-limbed fighting man of Mars. I played basketball and football in high school, and dabbled in martial arts in college.
Fit people had a look, and it seemed to be what I misidentified as Greek statuary, at least for the men (it was actually Renaissance Italian statuary that idealized and augmented the Greek originals and Roman copies — a clue that I missed).
Strong jaws, buff symmetry, and narrow waists that would look great in spandex.
Then it became the Marvel and DC comic ideal — remember How To Draw Comics The Marvel Way?
I spent years conflating fitness, comics, and a love of fiction and classical civilization.
So do many people
As a primary care and sports medicine physician, I’ve had time to grow up. Fitness and health are very, very different things, and even fitness has different varieties (fit for marathons isn’t fit for firefighting).
But I’m still critical when I think my waist is too thick or my shoulders too narrow. Some of that is valid — central obesity that signifies fatty liver or metabolic syndrome is a problem — but some of that is just plain legacy judginess.
And I’m not alone.
No question that pretty people have it easier in this life. If you’re built like Captain America or Wonder Woman and have a voice like James Earl Jones or a woman on the verge of an orgasm, you will enjoy the male and female gaze and much bowing and scraping, free of charge.
The conventional, fitness, and media-promoted ideal of desirability-as-health is a widespread, powerful thing.
I suggest a different emphasis
For several reasons, the first of which is that the Greek god, Hollywood ideal is logistically unattainable for most of us.
Clearly, some individuals achieve it. The number is small, compared to the totality of humanity.
The number is even smaller if you discount those who did so through the efforts of specialized trainers, nutritionists, and an employment contract that said, Attain the 5% body fat goal before Day 1 of filming, or you’re fired.
What’s left is an extremely small number of incredibly self-motivated individuals, placing a professional bodybuilding-type regimen at the center of their existence.
Does that sound like you?
Maybe.
Personally, I have a mortgage, family, and a somewhat demanding health advising and writing job called being a doctor and medical director.
You could choose to ditch these kinds of plebeian priorities. I think that walking away from family responsibilities would be appalling, but you could chuck it all and make chasing the Chris Evans or Scarlett Johansson physique the center of your existence.
I’m not saying it’s a bad thing to pick a stretch goal. I’m on the path to attaining a black belt in Gracie, aka Brazilian jiu-jitsu (I would appreciate it if you didn’t tell my aikido sensei), and while that’s not the real goal — staying on the path and learning endlessly is — about 1 in 50 students makes it to black belt, or about 1 in 200,000 human beings on the planet. A 0.0005% chance of success is kind of the definition of an impractical stretch goal (according to this calculator, I’m on track to achieve a black belt by April 2033).
It’s not that crazy a goal; you’re still more likely to get a BJJ black belt than to become a supermodel by a factor of 200, per ChatGPT. And way more likely to become a Navy SEAL (20% pass rate) or even lose weight long term (4%).
My point is that you can choose to be Han Solo and say, “Never tell me the odds” when pursuing your dream of choice.
But if we agree that worthy goals demand extraordinary commitment, you want to be sure that your goal is worth all that time and energy.
I know a lot of regular-looking amazing people
Ryron and Renner Gracie, who currently lead the Gracie family in promoting BJJ to the world, look like very friendly lanky guys who’d be great modeling skinny jeans.
Rickson Gracie, probably the greatest no-holds-barred and BJJ fighter the world has ever known, looked like a healthy, moderately buff surfer in his younger years.
Chris Haueter, one of the “Dirty Dozen” non-Brazilians who were the first to be awarded BJJ black belts, and Carlos Leal, my current Gracie jiu-jitsu coach, look like guys you’d see any weekend at the hardware store.
They all look pretty healthy. None of them would make the cut as Hollywood leading men or stand-ins for sculptors creating bronze deities.
And yet… their skill is SO next level.
Very up there for what they do — and they’ve devoted themselves to a physical goal!
It’s just not a goal prioritizing looks and symmetry.
Beginnings are the time for goals
Frank Herbert said, “Beginnings are such delicate times.” I take this to mean, you can really eff yourself by choosing the wrong direction, so choosing your goal, your direction, is a Very Non-Trivial step.
You should adjust course as you go, but many people do not do this.
What do you want to achieve? Your time on this Earth is not infinite; the car might break down before reaching your destination. If like me you’re older than 50, you already instinctively know this.
What are you willing to give up along the way? Because there are no free rides. The more hours you spend in training, the less time you have for family, work, or anything else (unless you can combine them, at the risk of doing none of them very well).
When I was younger, I was focused on the front-end benefits. Do I want to get better at a throwing art or a punching/kicking art? Bend the arm this way or a few degrees the other way?
Now I realize it’s really about time and resource management. Do I have the time, energy, and ability to not get badly hurt pursuing my goal, while also staying true to my other commitments?
The Japanese had better planes, and the Germans had better planes AND tanks in World War 2. But the Allies had better supply lines.
All wars are fought with weapons, but they’re won by logistics.
Action items
You can choose any goal you want, with any approach you want, including alcohol and parties. But you can only be on so many dance floors at once, drinking so many flutes of champagne.
So it is with all things.
If you want to get somewhere specific, random movement is unlikely to get you there.
And if the destination requires consistent work, you need to make some hard choices.
Form vs. function. Weight loss vs. muscle building. Diet vs. exercise. Physicality vs. technical proficiency. Yes, there is overlap — thank God — but the important things are often mutually exclusive, what mathematicians refer to as orthogonal.
If you had to pick between looking amazing and moving amazingly, which would you devote your life to? Strong as an ox vs. living an extra 30 years? Being good at something and an asset to your family vs. being world-class and regretting alienating your children?
Tick tock.
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