The signals sent by our culture are rather straightforward. When it comes to physical activity, attaining success means achieving a healthy weight reduction, which is the key to contentment.
The same message can be found in women’s publications (every single one of them! ), television programmes, motivational speakers, and fitness clubs. It takes self-control and determination to stick to a fitness routine, but the rewards are well worth the effort: you’ll feel better, look better, and be healthier as a result of the progress you make.
Excellent proposition. It may work for some individuals for a short period of time, but ultimately it is not successful.
I am aware of the situation since I have personally experienced it. The combination of dedication, results, and incentive does indeed work so long as everything is going according to plan; nevertheless, eventually, life will get in the way. Your well balanced strategy is thrown off when there is a change in the routine. A new job, a wedding, the birth of a child, relocating to a new place, a divorce, an accident, or even a sickness may put a wrench in the works, and it can be difficult to find your way back to your rhythm after such a disruption.
This line of thought has even managed to convince me. I’ve been irritated for a number of months now because, despite the fact that I exercise on a consistent basis, the needle on the scale hasn’t moved all that much. My husband is so sick of me asking what I’m doing wrong, what I need to change, and if he could possibly reassure me for the umpteenth time that yes, he sees changes in muscle tone that count as an improvement. He is so sick of me asking what I’m doing wrong, what I need to change, and if he could possibly reassure me for the umpteenth time that yes, he sees
This week, I got broadsided with a reminder that other results are more valuable.
The details aren’t important, but I will say that is was one of those situations where I made a big effort to make things possible for someone else, and I was stood up. No warning, no “I’m sorry,” just nothing. And I was left holding the bag.
In the past, this would have triggered a blast of internal resentment, and after I didn’t need to appear poised anymore, I would have gorged on licorice, potato chips or ice cream. Or I would have headed for a couple of glasses of wine to take the edge off.
This time was different. Sure, I felt the pangs of disappointment and panic. But as I took a couple of breaths, flipping through my head for an answer, one word spoke.
I smiled, thinking the lovely thought would pass when I made it to the privacy of my own pantry. But it didn’t. I stood in the kitchen noticing that I wasn’t scavenging for sugar. I wanted to come home.
The Switch had happened. My body wanted healing more than escapism. It knew what real power was.
I’m still as surprised as anyone by this turn of events, but I think I know what happened. Because I’ve been using micro workouts that are simple to do, easy to fit in my schedule and fill me with energy, my brain has adapted to the idea that I should go there when I’m stressed.
That night, I wasn’t able to do yoga, but I did knock out a 20-minute kettlebell workout. I finished feeling strong and optimistic. My brain wasn’t spinning to place blame, keep score or find solve this problem. I was confident that everything would work itself out, and I’d know what to do when the time came. I’ll take that over a sugar coma any day.
I have this feeling that this success will lead to others. That’s what momentum does, and it will bring me what I really need.
I was able to make the switch starting with pajama workouts: short, simple and powerful.