I think in the conversation of fitness, people often disregard what it means to be fit and the significant difference between being healthy and being fit.

Yes, most “fit” people are healthy, so we embark on a path towards “fitness” when we’re actually pursuing health. But what does it mean to be fit?

Let us approach this more a linguistic perspective.

What does it mean to be fit? Well, it’s not about the visible abs or the throbbing veins in the forearms, is it? I mean, yeah, sure, I’d love to have them (and I have had them at multiple points over the past year or two), but there is a lot more to being fit.

Firstly, being fit does not a monolithic definition. It begs the immediate question: fit for what? And since the answer to that varies, so does definition.

Within the realm of professional athletes, a body that is fit to play basketball may not be fit to play American football. And even within basketball, a body that is fit to play point guard is rarely fit to play center.

In any profession where your physical attributes play a major role in your performance, fitness is a measure of your body’s specialisation for that particular role.

And for those who do not belong in such a profession? Of course, it would be their avocational activities that determine what fitness is to them.

So what is fitness? Simply, how well can your body do what you want it to do?

And THAT is why I don’t like gym trainers!

Not where you thought I was going with this, right?

The thing about most gym trainers I encounter is that their approach towards fitness is built to pursue their own narrow sets of goals. And by and large, I do not share those goals.

I want to run and jump. I want to be able to move with freedom on the field. I want to be nimble and lithe.

Naturally, I wouldn’t follow their path. I like to do things my own way.

It’s weird how some people seem to be surprised or offended by that. But I guess that just means they’re not fit after all, right?