The word optimal has become one of the most overused and misunderstood terms in the health and fitness space. Optimal simply means a way forward that has the highest likelihood of producing a favorable outcome. Who wouldn’t want that? The problem is not the definition. The problem is how the word is applied, and who it’s being applied to.
Online, the version of “optimal” that gets the most attention represents the top one percent. The strongest, leanest, most disciplined, most genetically gifted, and most acclaimed individuals dominate the conversation. Over time, that small window of humanity becomes a subconscious standard for everyone.
This has quietly eroded people’s confidence for years.
When we hear “optimal health” today, we rarely think of a mother or father who can play with their kids on the floor without pain. We don’t think of someone who sleeps well, manages stress, and has the energy to show up for their responsibilities. We don’t picture an elderly person who can live independently because they’ve committed to daily walking and consistent resistance training. Instead, our culture pictures the person who trains the hardest, lifts the most weight, and looks the most impressive with their shirts off.
Competitive athletes and fitness influencers are placed on a pedestal and labeled as the paragon of health. But performance and health are not the same thing. There is a difference between being good at fitness for fitness’s sake, and striving to maintain your body so that you can live a full life. The person we idolize for their physique or strength may have fundamentally nothing in common with the person watching the content. Their entire life may be structured around training, recovery, nutrition, and aesthetics. Their schedule, priorities, stressors, and responsibilities are often completely different.
What is optimal for a fitness influencer, or a competitive athlete is flat out unrealistic for common people. We should not compare ourselves to them.
By “common person,” I don’t mean average in a derogatory sense. I mean someone with a job, relationships, obligations, mental load, and limited time and energy. Someone whose life demands thought, effort, and emotional presence outside the gym.
To make this clearer, consider this example: Let’s say two people want to improve their reading skills. One person has three children, a spouse, and a demanding full-time job. Their days are fragmented. Their attention is pulled in multiple directions. Quiet time is scarce and often comes at the cost of sleep. The other person works three days a week and lives alone in a studio apartment. They have long stretches of uninterrupted time and minimal external demands.
Who will have more time to dedicate to reading? Obviously the latter.
Does that mean the “optimal” reading plan should be the same for both people? Of course not. They both need to read to improve, but the amount, structure, and expectations must be different. What is sustainable and realistic for one person would be overwhelming, or
even irresponsible for the other.
Fitness is no different. When we idolize people who do not have our lives, we unconsciously adopt standards that were never designed for us. We compare ourselves to strangers we’ve never met, ignore the invisible scaffolding that supports their lifestyle, and then judge ourselves harshly when we can’t replicate their results.
Ironically, this obsession with “optimal” often produces the worst outcomes. People delay starting because they can’t do things perfectly. They abandon simple, effective habits because they don’t look impressive. They oscillate between extremes, doing too much, burning out, then doing nothing.
The extreme all or nothing behavior is represented in how we think about a subject. Optimal or nothing is a very real perspective, and is purported on the internet.
For most people, the most effective plan is not the one that produces the fastest transformation; it’s the one that can be repeated for years. It is the plan that aligns their effort with their capacity to give. Walking consistently, strength training a few times per week, eating mostly whole foods, sleeping enough, and managing stress is what everyone should aim for. Optimal is contextual, and it changes with seasons of life. What is optimal for a 22-year-old aspiring athlete is not optimal for a 35-year-old parent, and it certainly isn’t optimal for a 70-year-old trying to preserve independence.
3 Steps Forward:
- Quit comparing yourself to people you have never met, better yet quit comparing yourself to others altogether. It is a killjoy, as well as a perpetrator of mental lies.
- Find a way you can move your body every day, something that you feel is sustainable.
- Accept that health & fitness is a journey, and to begin doesn’t take perfection, it takes the willingness to commit.
Lee Ramsey has a passion for fitness as a way to help people grow and change into more adaptable, capable and resilient versions of themselves. He is owner of Sanctify Fitness in Covington and a regular fitness columnist for the NKyTribune.