Once upon a pandemic, we were early on in orchestra rehearsals for our spring season, 2020. And then the rest of the season was called off. As was the fall season.

Many of you experienced something similar, whether it was school, work, or activity you treasure doing with others. For me, as a horn player who just several years ago returned to actively playing, that meant a return to the routine I knew before ever joining an orchestra: play alone.

It was, unfortunately, easy to get caught up in so many other necessary things — caring for my elderly mother, making sure we had enough toilet paper, juggling new work situations. My horn ended up sitting in a corner. Every few months, I’d tell myself that I shouldn’t have just set her down and I would promptly make the time to sit down, play slurs and scales, record what I’d done with every intention of getting back in the swing of things… and then I would allow life to get in the way. I knew we couldn’t meet for orchestra, but I don’t play my instrument just for that; I play it because I honestly love playing.

A month or so ago, I picked up my horn, again, and pushed myself to play those slurs and scales, but in the early days of getting back into playing, that’s what you must do. That, long tones, exercises. Really, laying off an instrument and picking it up, again, is a lot like not exercising for a long time and then dragging yourself into the gym. You have to start slowly and build up those muscles, again, before you can reach a point where you’re really benefiting from the work.

Well — you guessed it — best intentions and all that. Then, since my husband and I were able to make plans to visit our daughter and her family (thanks to being fully vaccinated), I had the opportunity to visit a horn specialty store where I could be custom fitted for a mouthpiece. I’ve wanted to do this for quite some time, but in order to be fit properly, I had to have some practice under my belt. I mean, you don’t go get fit for a running shoe if you haven’t been running. You have to know what it is that feels right and meets your needs. So I had to suck it up, sit down, and hit those slurs, scales, and long tones.

Those early days are always a trial; your lips get sore, you can’t play much, and what you can play sounds like a rabid cow.

Not totally unlike the early days of deciding to change your eating, as well as starting exercise after a long time off. I remember the early days of my journey; I would by habit grab something to eat that I wasn’t supposed to eat, and then realize it halfway through eating. That meant having to be more conscious of what I was doing; every bite, every action. Any of us who have started such an endeavor know what a pain it can be. Maybe you forgot what you were supposed to eat. Or you make the decision to watch what you eat and the next thing you know, you’re at a party, hungry, and nothing there suits what you had planned.

It’s a struggle, as if you’re restarting your efforts over and over until you get the hang of it and don’t feel so strung out.

There’s good news, though: putting in the effort in those early days helps build muscle — your brain muscle, if nothing else. Repetition and effort create habit, and eventually, not only does the process become easier, but the payoffs are sweeter. Clothes start fitting better. You can walk farther than you could, before. You can carry your groceries with less effort. You start realizing that the drudgery of early efforts smooths out and creates a payoff that perhaps you didn’t really expect.

And occasionally, you can take a few days off or enjoy a treat without backsliding and having to go through the same level of effort; it’s easier, because it’s habit. That’s how life has become for me; I’ve been taking a few days of vacation and not putting in the same effort I usually do, but while I know the scale has registered a few extra pounds, it’s nothing that will stress me out, because I’ve already put in enough work to know I’ll drop into my habits with little effort.

The same has been true for picking up my horn, again. I was able to be fitted for my mouthpiece, take it home, and yesterday, instead of the slurs, scales, and long tones, I played melodies and absolutely enjoyed myself while playing. Soon, orchestra will start again, and I’ll find where I fit, but if I don’t put in the effort now, the first time I sit down with my fellow musicians, I’ll feel obligated to apologize for not keeping up. It’s entirely up to me, though, to keep up the practice and keep moving forward; not for them as much as more myself.

Practice makes perfect, friends. If you don’t put in the practice, you never get the payoff. So practice until the impossible seems easy.