Take Imperfect Action

Spotted next to Peace Garden park in Wîhkwêntôwin. Artist unknown

What is imperfect action?

To me, imperfect action is literally any action that moves me in the direction of the behaviours, habits, or goals that matter to me. It's not about doing the thing perfectly. Sometimes it's not even about accomplishing the thing I originally set out to do. It's simply about taking one step, no matter how small, slow, or sloppy.

When it comes to exercise, maybe that's a workout session. Maybe it's five minutes of stretching while the kettle boils. Maybe it's putting my gym clothes on and driving there, even if I only stay for twenty minutes. Maybe it's choosing to walk around the block instead of scrolling on my phone.

None of those actions are "perfect." But every single one of them reinforces the identity of someone who values movement and cares for themself.

I didn't always see it this way.

In my twenties, more was always better. More frequent workouts. More intensity. More competition. I had something to prove, and working out was the method I chose to get there. At that time, I thought consistency looked like hitting a certain number of workouts every single week, forever. 

I knew there would be disruptions for things like illness, vacations, or major life events, but I expected myself to just get right back into the swing of things afterward, and when I didn't, I got frustrated.

The longer it took me to get back into my routine, the more disappointed in myself I became. In turn, that created resistance, because it wasn't just about my workout routine anymore–it was steeped in shame, guilt, and self-criticism.

Over the years, though, I've learned more about myself and my body, about exercise science, psychology, and social determinants of health. I've also had the privilege of walking alongside hundreds of women, each navigating their own unique barriers to movement.

And along the way, I softened.

Not because I lowered my standards or stopped caring about my health, but because I started caring more about sustainability than perfection. This shift in thinking has completely changed the way I think about progress.

So often when we are thinking about becoming more active, we put too much emphasis on motivation, when what we really need is momentum, and only motion builds momentum. Shame rarely does.

One of the biggest misconceptions I see online is that if you're not training several days a week, tracking every workout, or meticulously increasing the weight on every lift, you're somehow wasting your time. 

In exercise science, we talk about something called progressive overload. At its simplest, it just means gradually asking your body to do a little more over time so it has a reason to adapt.

Sometimes that means lifting heavier weights. Other times it means doing another set, walking a little farther, spending a few more minutes on your bike, challenging your balance, slowing down the tempo of an exercise, or simply performing a movement that once felt intimidating confidently, and more efficiently.

Progressive overload isn't just one specific strategy. It's the gradual process of becoming capable of doing a little more than you could before.

Social media often makes it seem like this highly technical process where every variable needs to be perfectly optimized. While there is certainly value in structured programming—especially for athletes or specific performance goals—for most of us, progress happens much more naturally than that.

Stick with an activity long enough, and chances are you'll slowly become stronger, more coordinated, more confident, or have more endurance without even realizing it.

Progressive overload doesn't require perfect consistency. It requires continued exposure over time. Sometimes that time is measured in weeks. Sometimes it's measured in years.

Sometimes you'll make rapid progress. Sometimes life will demand your attention elsewhere, and your progress will plateau—or even move backwards for a while.

That's okay.

Because your body doesn't know whether you missed the gym for three weeks because you were caring for a sick family member, planning a wedding, grieving a loss, raising children, or simply trying to survive a stressful season. It's primary concern is what you're asking of it today.

And if today you're asking it to move a little more than yesterday, you're still moving forward.

One of the questions I get asked most often, both from personal training clients and from people at jiu-jitsu is:

"Can I still make progress if I only come once a week?"

The answer is almost always yes.

Will your progress be slower than someone training three or four times each week? Probably. But slower doesn't mean insignificant.

If once a week is what genuinely fits your life right now, then once a week is infinitely better than waiting for the mythical future version of yourself who suddenly has endless free time and energy.

I've found myself embracing this idea recently as I've started rebuilding my own strength training routine after a few weeks off. Instead of trying to force myself back into the schedule I followed in the past, I'm asking a different question:

"What feels realistic for my life right now?"

I'm planning workouts that fit around teaching jiu-jitsu, running my business, and work with my attention span. I even have options for the days where anxiety or body discomfort make the gym feel like a bigger hurdle than usual. Ironically, this more flexible approach is probably the one I'll be able to maintain for years to come.

That's also how I approach personal training with many of my clients.

When someone is brand new to the gym, nervous about exercising, balancing kids and work, experiencing chronic pain or other conditions, or have been disconnected from movement, my goal isn't to create the "perfect" workout plan.

It's to help them build a relationship with movement that feels approachable enough to come back to. Because if we can help someone move consistently for years instead of perfectly for six weeks, we've accomplished something far more meaningful.

In general, adults are encouraged to accumulate around 150 minutes of moderate to vigorous physical activity each week. That sounds like a lot until you realize it averages out to just over 20 minutes a day.

And those minutes don't have to happen in a gym.

It could look something like this:

• Monday: A brisk 20-minute walk.

• Tuesday: A one-hour exercise class you genuinely enjoy.

• Wednesday: A spontaneous 15-minute dance party in your living room.

• Thursday: Some gentle stretching or yoga.

• Friday: An outdoor activity with friends or family.

• Saturday: Housework that gets your heart rate up (yes, vacuuming counts).

• Sunday: A casual walk or another day of rest.

  
  

Movement doesn't have to be all or nothing.

It doesn't have to be optimized.

It doesn't have to be miserable.

And perhaps most importantly, progress doesn't happen in a straight line.

Life is full of busy seasons, illness, grief, celebrations, vacations, new jobs, changing priorities, and unexpected challenges. There will be weeks where movement feels effortless, and weeks where it falls completely off your radar.

That doesn't mean you've failed.

It means you're human.

The goal was never to maintain a perfect streak. The goal is to keep finding your way back. Because the person who keeps taking imperfect action over the course of decades will almost always end up healthier, stronger, and more connected to their body than the person who waits for the perfect conditions to start again.

Your progress isn't measured by whether you missed a week, a month, or even a season.

It's measured by your willingness to begin again.

Again.

And again.

For the rest of your life.