May 16, 2022
MYTH BUSTING…….. OUT TRAIN YOUR DIET!
They Carried Me Down The Stairs...
I was wrapped like a burrito in this orange tarp as six men carried me down the stairs…
Yup, that is true.
Picture that for a minute a I back up.
Over the weekend I was hucking 100lb tree chunks into the back of my truck after we had cut a leaning tree down from the gym.
As I loaded the 9th one I walked around the side of my truck, almost ready to pull away, and noticed there was room for one more.
As I grabbed the 10th tree chunk and lugged it over the side of my truck, I felt it.
A crippling pull down my entire spine.
I froze, I couldn’t walk.
Being a big guy, a tall guy, I’ve had my fair share of back strains, but this was like none other.
I called Megan, she came to pick me up, and I got some pain medicine at the walk in clinic.
Still unable to walk, I was hoping some rest and pain meds would do the trick.
After being home for a couple of hours getting some rest, I went to move, and I felt like my spine was in a vice grip.
I dropped, started screaming, shivering, and was in complete shock.
I couldn’t move.
I literally could not move.
Megan called 911 and six hefty guys (one of which is a client at the gym) wrapped me up in a tarp and got me downstairs and into the ambulance.
After six or eight hours in the hospital, some hefty cocktails of pain medicine, I was finally able to walk with a walker.
I sit here 48 hours later with a pain level about 6/10.
Certainly not comfortable, but functional.
Now, I tell all of that to of course to share a couple of lessons.
It helps to know people :) The paramedic was a client, the ER doc was a client, and I’m grateful for their special care.
Injuries happen and they suck. You go through denial, anger that it happened, what you could have done to avoid it, all the emotions.
But here’s what I really want to focus on….
After that passes, the anger, the frustration, the feeling bad for yourself, all of that needs to happen…
But after it happens, we have to do something about it.
I made a standing desk and was able to do 99% of my planned work day on Monday.
I stayed upright, went for some light walks, did some light stretching, because like most injuries, doing nothing is the worst thing you can do for yourself.
You see, I’m not a doctor, but there are very few injuries where we have to go to completely zero and shut everything down.
In my case I’ll try to keep up with walking and stretching this week.
It not only keeps my back from stiffening up and helps me physically, but more importantly, it’s the mental benefit.
It keeps me moving, it keeps me in a positive mindset instead of just sitting around and sulking.
We get calls or e-mails from clients that get an injury like a knee injury, or maybe they hurt their shoulder playing tennis.
The doc might tell them not to exercise for 2-3 weeks, but hopefully you can see where I’m going with this…we hate that!
Of course, there are a few scenarios where you need to stop moving 100%, but for 99% of cases, staying moving has a plethora of benefits.
If you hurt your shoulder, we still have your lower body and core that we can work on.
If you hurt your knee, we still have your upper body and your core we can work on.
And you see, it’s less about the physical benefit.
Sure it will keep you moving, keep you strong, but it’s not about burning 1,000 calories or losing weight during this time.
It’s about keeping the momentum going.
Momentum is not something we just stumble upon.
Momentum comes from small actions that keep us going.
Doing something, anything, during an injury just keeps the momentum going, keeps the spirits high.
It’s like when we say we don’t have energy to workout.
Remember, it’s the workouts that gives us energy.
A tough concept to grasp, but once we understand it we can really change our life.
This injury stuff was on my mind, and I’m sure at one point or another you’ve been through it, so hopefully something resonated with you to make it a little better next time.
1% Better.
Dedicated To Your Success,
Doug Spurling
Making The Best Out Of It...
I ran down the middle of Terminal B, two bags and a car seat in my arms, huffing and puffing.
Kaden was running behind me, he thought it was hilarious that we were running through the airport.
Our first flight was delayed, and by the time it landed in Atlanta we had about 15 minutes to get across Atlanta’s airport before our next flight took off.
I showed up at the gate, covered in sweat, but I still saw the plane at the gate.
Relieved, I thought we had made it.
“Doors are closed sir, it’s too late.”
After throwing a mild (massive) fit at the agent for not allowing us on the plane even though it was right there, we finally settled on the first flight out in the morning.
That meant Kaden and I would be spending the day and night at the airport hotel.
If you missed it on my personal social media accounts, this past weekend I took my son Kaden (three years old) down to the Smoky Mountains to help me set up a rental property we just bought there.
He had a blast, but it was a nonstop 48 hours of work for me.
After getting past the frustration of missing the plane and coming to grips that we were going to have to spend a night in the Atlanta Marriott, my attitude stared to shift.
How cool would it be to have a day with Kaden, just hanging out in the hotel?
A day to decompress before heading back home.
We went swimming in the pool, watched Netflix in bed, and had dinner at the restaurant.
It was a ton of quality time with nothing else to do but hang out with each other.
Kaden will tell you his favorite part was riding the elevators and the magic of how the door opened with a card.
Overall, it was an extension of quality time with my son after a great weekend with him.
The lesson?
When things don’t go as planned, maybe that’s okay.
Pause, process, make a plan B, and know that it could be even better than Plan A.
1% Better.
Dedicated To Your Success,
Be A Beginner
Yesterday I wrote about challenging labels we give ourselves…
“I’m not handy.”
“I’m not fit.”
Today, it got me thinking about a parallel lesson.
Embrace the joy and frustrations of being a beginner.
Recently I picked up a hobby of mountain biking.
It’s been a nice combination of exercise and the peace and quiet of nature.
However, the most fulfilling thing about it?
I’m terrible.
I get winded going up hills.
I have to put my feet down when I hit certain rock structures.
I feel like such a beginner.
But that’s what brings the most joy.
The success is in the struggle.
In our adult lives there are certain things we do enough that we just get really good at them.
It could be a hobby that you’ve done for years that you just do so naturally now.
Or it could be your job, you’ve done it for years, and the tasks are second nature.
Although the majority of our day is filled with unconscious habits, I feel it’s important in life to always have something you feel like a beginner at.
It creates humility, yet it creates fulfillment.
It challenges you as much as it frustrates you.
Without the challenge we can just go through the motions.
And although it’s great to have routine and confidence in things, it can also create a stale feeling, a lack of fulfillment.
What can you do, what can you pick up, that you will feel like an absolute beginner at?
For a lot of us, it was fitness.
Joining a gym, an intimidating atmosphere…
Getting sore after the fist workout…
Not knowing how to do any of the exercises…
You feel like a beginner.
But we all have to start somewhere with everything.
And the fulfillment and joy that comes from working through those challenges, getting a little better every time, that is what creates happiness.
Be a beginner again.
1% Better.
Dedicated To Your Success,
You're Not Handy
When we bought our house five years ago the dining room light wasn’t working.
I replaced the bulb and it still wasn’t turning on.
After messing with it I chucked it up as something wrong with the wiring.
Shortly after my father-in-law came over and twisted the light bulb, and poof!
The light was on.
I literally couldn’t screw in a light bulb.
For most of my life, I was told I wasn’t handy.
I reaffirmed that as often as I could, often not trying something handy, giving up easily, or just hiring it out.
I labeled myself as not handy.
It was easy to do growing up.
My dad was a mechanic and could rip a car apart and put it all back together.
My uncles were house flippers, they could tear down a whole house and put it back together.
I felt so nervous, so intimidated, and lacked all kinds of confidence around them.
It’s partly why I resonated more with my mom.
She was an accountant.
Spreadsheets, analytics, etc.
However, over the last couple of years, I’ve really challenged that label of “you’re not handy.”
As we’ve acquired more real estate, I’ve challenged myself to learn the ins and outs of building and remodeling.
I’ve fixed toilets, patched holes in walls, built a patio, and now know more about septic systems than the average person.
And you know what?
I’m actually enjoying it.
I AM handy.
Now, I’m not going to go build a house or reno a bathroom, but I challenged the label, and it feels good.
What is a label that you gave yourself that you can challenge?
I’m not fit.
I’m not confident.
I can’t do XYZ.
Many of us label ourselves with a certain limitation and that prevents us from living up to our full potential.
You tell yourself that you’re not fit, that you can’t do it.
You can do it.
Challenge the label.
1% Better.
Dedicated To Your Success,
Waking up to our lives
It’s fleeting, isn’t it?
Life.
That’s all I could think yesterday as I found myself with the rest of the Spurling team, standing in line to pay our respects to a member of our community who lost a loved one much too soon. I stared at the poster boards of photos, at the captured moments in time, and my heart ached for the family and the moments they won’t get to share.
Last night, I slid behind the wheel of my car and on my long drive home, resolved, as so many of us do when confronted with death and mortality, to stay more present, to live more in the moment, to be sure that I am sucking the marrow out of life, as Thoreau wrote. (Dead Poet’s Society had a profound effect on me as a teenager, though I had no idea what sucking the marrow out of life even meant…).
I resolved, yet again, to taste my first sip of coffee in the morning instead of mindlessly scrolling through my phone while I drink it. To search and really see the colors in a sunset instead of replaying the day in my head and worrying over things I said and fretting over moments to come. To close my eyes when Frank Sinatra’s “Nice & Easy” comes crackling through my speakers and really feel the voice that I fell in love with so many years ago.
I will stop blindly moving forward in this world, a Stepford wife of empty habits and routines that tie together to form a life.
And then, just as I was making these resolutions, a car from Massachusetts starting riding my bumper as I drove through construction on I95 and I started cursing a blue streak, losing all track of my resolutions in thinking about the dread of commuting with the tourists in the coming months.
The moment put me right smack in the middle of the daily struggle so many of us have to not only develop mindfulness and presence, but to dismantle some of the patterns we’ve developed over time.
In Buddhism, there is an intense focus on mindfulness, and on focusing on the now. The present is the only moment that we’re guaranteed, and yet we struggle mightily to live in the moment.
I don’t mean quitting your job, emptying your life savings and trotting off to live in an Airstream on a beach in San Diego kind of a mid-life crisis moment, but the planning for the future, appreciating and learning from the past while still experiencing the world around you kind of moment.
I mean leaning in to our five senses and experiencing every last bit of texture in a moment.
Staying present is, like so many habits, a difficult one to form. We develop our tendencies and behaviors in such slow and subtle ways, and these patterns become so deeply grooved that, unfortunately, it’s not enough to simply will yourself to do things differently.
We are often ready to resolve ourselves to change, but not yet ready for the practice that such change requires.
But awareness, and those moments that bring us such strong awareness, are the catalysts. They are the starting points that we all must have to begin.
So today, as I climb into my car for the drive back to work - I will keep my eyes forward. I will lean in to music from my speakers. And I will set out to break that pattern of sleeping through moments - and do my best to wake up to my life.
The Anchor Project
I have a bit of a tab problem.
No, not the diet soft drink from the 80’s (which you can still purchase in bulk on Amazon…you’re welcome.)
No, I’m talking about the modern-day tabs that you can open on your web browser. I’m not sure what’s average for most people, but at any given moment, I have at least a dozen or two tabs open, often between two different browsers.
I leave the tabs open to remember to go back to something. I’ll start watching a YouTube video and then realize I want to finish it later. Same thing with an article. And another article. And then there’s my email – and the other email. It’s almost like my to-do list.
The tabs on my computer are somewhat symbolic of the way I (dis)organize my life. Post it notes, seven half-used Moleskin notebooks (no, that’s not an exaggeration), and a few to-do lists written on unopened mail (I wish that was a joke…)
The challenge I have with my system, or lack thereof, is that I often feel pulled in a million different directions, too overwhelmed by external and internal distractions to know what to do next.
Recently however, I came across a blog post where the author discussed creating her own anchors.
She defined The Anchor Project as a way of clarifying the primary values in your life so that you can focus on the essential goals and weed out goals and to-do items that are distracting you from what you really want in life.
One of my favorite exercises to do in my workshop is to have people make a list of the things they want to do in their lives, and then make another list of the things they feel they should do in their lives.
The two lists don’t often match up because we often put our shoulds before our true wants and whys.
By taking some time to come up with our anchors, we can have a clear base to return to when we start to get pulled away by distractions. A good place to start this project is by naming your values. One of my top values is compassion - and I’ve learned that I can’t be compassionate if I over-extend myself and neglect my wellness. So while I’m still in the process of coming up with all of my anchors, I know the first one is:
Holistic wellness
If I dig into this one a little bit further, I know that for me this means a focus on self-care, which includes following through on doctor’s appointments, taking my supplements, getting five minutes of quiet, physical fitness, eating nutritious food etc.
If I take care of myself, I’ll have better energy - and having better energy means that not only will I be more compassionate towards others, but I’ll also be in a better place to live the life I want to live.
The overall point of The Anchor Project (and I’m capitalizing it on purpose) is to stop letting the shoulds and distractions (and distracting goals) take charge of your life. Take some time to think about your values and decide what’s important to you - and come up with your anchors.
And if you need some help, I have two spots remaining in my Wednesday morning workshop which begins next Wednesday, April 21st and runs from 11:00 am to 12 pm in the Infinity Center.
To be brave again
“I want to be brave again.”
These words, when she spoke them aloud, stopped me in my tracks.
To her mind, this client was speaking about her own goal, about looking for the courage to return to doing the things she loves after suffering an injury. But without realizing it, she was really speaking for every single one of us.
To be brave again.
There is definitely a feeling of courage required in recovering from any injury.
But I also think of how much bravery and courage our day-to-day life asks of us. Sure there’s the big stuff - being brave enough to speak and stand up for our beliefs - brave enough to leave a miserable job when you don’t know what will come next. Brave enough to end a relationship that is unhealthy for you.
But there’s the other stuff too. It requires bravery to wear the clothes we want to wear. For years, I dressed the way other people told me I should dress, because I was afraid of the judgement that would follow. It took me a long time to feel comfortable enough in my own skin to wear what I wanted to wear because I liked it.
It took time for me to be brave enough.
It takes bravery to allow ourselves to be photographed when we’re riddled with shame and self-loathing about our appearance.
It takes bravery to change our hair, to ask someone out to dinner, to publicly admit we love John Denver (there, I said it, ok?), to try a new activity, or put our art and creativity out there. Brene Brown says it best when she she defines “daring greatly” as the courage to be vulnerable, to show up and be seen, to ask for what you need, to talk about how you’re feeling, to have the hard conversations.”
To be brave.
I don’t know what it will take for this client to feel brave again, about returning to her activities. I don’t know what it will take for you, sitting there reading this, to feel brave enough to maybe walk through our doors for the first time. Or make whatever change it is you’ve been thinking about making.
I think it starts with creating a safe space. Safe for sharing, safe for feeling, safe for authenticity, safe for you to be unapologetically, unabashedly you, whoever you are.
And that is the space that we continue to try to create and hold sacred for each other. As best as we can.
I think, I hope, that the more we can cherish one another with kindness and compassion, that we can help each other be brave.
Three tips to help with that busy head of yours
On a scale of 1 to negative 10, my organizational skills are a negative 15.
And I’m good with that.
Because you know what? If my mid-forties are going to be filled with waking up to random aches and pains, the causes of which I can’t pinpoint, then this period of my life should also be filled with the benefits of owning my personality traits and shortcomings like a boss.
Which is all the more reason that it was a touch out of character to find myself, two weeks ago, opening my second planner of 2021. (I broke up with the first one. If we’re assigning blame, it was a case of it’s not you it’s me…mostly…)
I don’t like planners. It’s not that I object to using planners, it’s just that I hate them in the same way I hate coconuts. Even though hate is a strong word. But I’m going with it. Because I really hate coconuts. And planners.
What I really object to is anything that makes me feel boxed in. But what I do like is creating things. Videos, blogs, instagram posts - I like making something out of nothing. And if I’m willing to be truly honest with myself, sometimes the process of creating that content takes thought and planning.
Which brings me back to using a planner.
Because here’s the ultimate question for me:
What is it that I most want to get out of 2021? (Besides a vaccine and some semblance of normalcy…)
I can absolutely answer that question. I’m working on a draft of my second book. I’m working hard to be a better coach. I’d really like to do a fully choreographed routine to “Blame It on the Bossa Nova” (I’m so close…)
And that’s the rub with trying to organize my thoughts. As much as I am happily a pant-ser (someone who flies by the seat of her pants), I am also a creative soul who doesn’t want to leave this world with a bunch of incomplete thoughts and projects.
So, to make this post a bit more useful and concrete, here are my top three reasons for adopting a…we’ll call it a system:
1. More space in my head.
Good grief is my head busy. Buuuuusssssyyyyy. There is so much going on in this noggin’ 24-7 that the less I need to keep track of in there, the more space I have to actually think about creative projects. Creating mental space is important, and I’ve not always been good at it. Having a place where my tasks and lists and goals can live is good for me.
2. Less distractions.
I walk around like my pants are on fire. Again, that has a lot to do with my personality. But one of my greatest struggles is getting back to a task after I’ve stepped away to put out a fire. The nice thing about having my planner (so far…again, we’re still dating) is that I have my top three tasks for the day written down. So even if I stepped away for something that took me a long-time, I can return to that list and know which task to engage in.
3. Keep track of my goals.
Ultimately, I have things I want to do in this life. And if I don’t want to be wispy about those things, I absolutely have to make a plan to execute them. I proved something to myself a few weeks ago when I finished my book; I proved that I have it in me to see something over the finish line. I’m not sure that I really believed in my ability to stay focused for that long until I actually did it.
But now that I’ve managed to do that, I can see so much more clearly the other things I want to do. And I don’t want to lose track of those goals.
If you tune in to the weekly podcast, Doug and I dive a bit deeper into this whole using a planner idea. Because you absolutely can teach that old dog a few new tricks.
One Year Ago...
Can you believe it’s been a year?
Part of me feels like it’s been a month, and most of me feels like it’s been a decade.
I’m sure I aged a decade in the last year :)
A year ago this whole COVID thing really started ramping up here in Maine.
This was the week that businesses began shutting down for what we thought was going to be just a couple of weeks.
Boy oh boy, I don’t know if it’s good or bad that we didn’t know at the time it was going to be like how it actually was over the last year.
There’s so much to complain about over the last year…
I can talk about how hard it was running a business over the last year…
I can talk about how Megan spent days in the ICU for what was probably COVID, and I got a call from the doctor at 2:00 am and he said “we’re going to do everything we can to save her.”
I can talk about how we processed more membership holds and comp’d months over the last year than we did in the entire length of our business.
I can talk about how my team is tired, tired of giving everything they can and still feeling like it’s not doing anything.
I can talk about the nightmare stories we’ve heard from clients over the last year, whether it’s from those who work in healthcare and saw it all, clients who run small businesses, or those who had family members get COVID.
It’s important to acknowledge, for most of us reading this e-mail right now….
The last year was the hardest year of our lives.
But…
There’s been so much good.
We were able to service our clients fully online for three months, including coach-led workouts, accountability coaching, and virtual socials like Trivia nights and Bingo nights.
We added a whole new “arm” to our business that we now call STREAM, our virtual offering.
We ramped up our accountability coaching, 1:1 check-ins with clients off the gym floor, talking life.
We added our 1,500 square foot outdoor workout space that will allow us to professionally lead outdoor fitness classes for years to come.
Although we’re still down about 20% from “Pre-Covid” and have a lot of rebuilding to do, we were able to lead the industry in some of the best practices and best retention rates.
Our team has stayed fully employed, and we’re so grateful we have not gotten to a position where we have had to do layoffs.
We had clients that got some of their best results over this last year.
We had clients drop 10, 20, and even 30+ pounds during the quarantine.
Maybe it was the increased frequency of workouts, maybe it was the extra accountability the coaches were able to provide, or maybe they just had more time to focus on themselves.
Either way, whether it was weight loss, performance improvements, or attendance increases we still helped a lot of people live better lives over this last year and that’s something we’re proud of.
There were also a lot of lessons learned.
We continue to learn how important communication is.
We continue to learn how to balance change with certainty.
We changed so rapidly over the last year in order to just keep up, but there were a few times changing too fast bit us in the butt and we learned from that.
Overall, it’s been a year to remember for sure.
I balance the constant stress to rebuild and “get back to where we were” with the gratitude of just how well most of us still have it after a year like this.
Either way, there’s still work to be done, we’re not out of the woods yet.
However, as more sun shines during the day, there is light at end of tunnel, and that give us all some hope.
Thank you for being on this rollercoaster of a journey with us, especially over this last year.
1% Better.
Dedicated To Your Success,
Three thoughts on finishing what you start
Now there’s a headline I never thought I’d write….
As many of you who are regular readers of this blog know, I’ve been working on a fitness book since 2018. A few weeks ago, I published it on Amazon. When someone asked me what part of the book I was most proud of, I didn’t hesitate:
Bringing it over the finish line.
I bore easily. I have great enthusiasm at the beginning, waning enthusiasm in the middle, and nothing that resembles enthusiasm when I get into the last 25% of something. I’ve known this about myself since the first time I took the Myers Briggs Personality Test in college.
1. CHECK THAT SELF-TALK.
We are what we tell ourselves we are. I know I struggle to keep my attention and interest on a long-term project.
I like starting new endeavors – I love starting new books – new projects – new tabs on my computer (15 right now if you’re curious…); I just love changing the channel after a bit.
But the more I tell myself that I’m just not someone who finishes things the more I believe I’m not capable of finishing things.
We are what we tell ourselves we are. Growth mindset.
2. REMEMBER THAT PERFECTION IS THE ENEMY OF DONE.
I don’t know if that’s the actual quote, but it’s the absolute truth in my case. I’m a perfectionist (despite being a self-identified sh*t show). Every time I wrote a section of the book I thought I liked, when I re-read the material later I thought it was awful.
To get over this hump I had to get over myself, first of all. And then I had to trust the opinion of my editor and the people who read the material. Nothing is going to be perfect. But if it’s the best I could do in the moment, then that has to be enough. As much as I’m afraid of failing, no results are better than bad results. Take the risk.
3. LET GO OF IMMEDIACY AND FIND AN ACCOUNTABILITY PARTNER.
Remember when you used to put film in a camera? And then you had to send it out to get developed? And then 1-hour photo became a thing? And then digital cameras happened? Then cameras came with our phones?
We’re addicted to immediacy.
Hell, do you remember what we did before Google when we had a question? Look it up in the Encyclopedia. Unless your encyclopedia only went up to the Nixon administration and it was 1988 and you needed to know more about Ronald Reagan.
We don’t have to wait for anything these days. So when our project begins to stall out – and it will eventually lose momentum – we no longer get that dopamine rush.
The main reason I finished this project was that I had someone who offered me gentle accountability. She would ask how the book was coming, and because of her genuine interest in the project, and her encouragement, I learned to set smaller goals and move the project over each hurdle. The accountability made all of the difference.
The most exciting part about getting something like this over the finish line is that it proved to me that I can. The process is long and challenging.
But it’s doable.
Three strategies for busting through the apathy
Even if you are not predisposed to depression, you are going to hit a point in this fitness journey where you begin to wonder why you should even bother.
You’re going to put on a pair of shorts from last summer and they’ll still feel snug.
You’ll lose 10 pounds in the first two months and the scale will stick for the next 10 months. (Hint, stay off the scale.)
Your co-worker is going to come in and find you sobbing at your desk and when she asks what’s wrong you’re going to tell her, through hiccups and snot, that you just can’t look at one. more. piece. of. grilled. chicken. (Or broccoli, carrots, hummus, cottage cheese…)
At some point, you’re going to look in the mirror, not like what you see, and begin to feel like nothing matters. I know, it sounds like I’m writing to you from the pit of hell, but I’m actually just in my home office listening to America on vinyl. (Depending on your musical tastes, that is the pit of hell).
Mostly I’m writing to you from a place of experience. I allude to my struggles with depression often here, but that’s because that battle is as much a part of me as my Western Pennsylvania roots. And when it comes to depression, apathy is the number one enemy.
YOU ARE THE POINT
I had a client ask me this a few weeks ago. She’s lost a lot of weight but has been at a plateau for a few months. It’s a very difficult question to answer- but the best I could offer is you. You are the point. You are the reason. You’re getting healthier for you. You’re getting healthier because you walked in here a year ago and said you did not want to have a heart attack at 52 years old. You walked in here determined to get off of that blood pressure medication.
You are the point.
HONOR THAT SPACE
It’s going to sound strange, but when I’m in a place of not giving a flying squirrel, I have to honor that space. I have to respect how I feel and find ways to work with it. And in doing so, I adjust expectations of myself.
The phrase I often use with clients is to keep their toe in the water. Over these past few months when everything has felt harder to me, I’ve reduced my strength training to twice a week. Some weeks I can mix in a few extra runs in here and there, but all I’m asking of myself is two workouts per week. If you’re finding it difficult to get to the gym or out the door for a run, adjust your expectations. You might be surprised to find that committing yourself to 20 minutes suddenly turns into 40.
GRAB A BUDDY
I usually prefer to work out alone, but over the past month, Amy has been my workout buddy. She’s the only reason I hit two workouts last week. She walked into the office, pointed to my gym bag and said let’s go. So we did. We know that part of the success of Crossfit and Zumba is finding a community of like-minded people and those people are most helpful when you're just not feeling it. This work is too hard and the journey too long to constantly be doing it by yourself.
Don't be afraid to reach out if you're struggling with that plateau or that apathy. Sometimes it's helpful just to say it aloud to someone else. We can't always fix it, but we can certainly listen.
And maybe put on a little Whitney Houston.
Because Whitney fixes everything.
Challenge these myths
Her goal was to lose weight.
Her plan was to get to the gym three times per week and track her food.
When we met at the end of the week, she’d done neither.
So we tried again. Get to the gym one time, don’t worry about tracking anything. When we came back together the following week, she’d missed on those goals as well. And she was beating herself up, hard, for all that she wasn’t doing. All of the progress that she wasn’t making.
“I know what I need to be doing,” she said. “I’m just not doing it. I just need to try harder.”
And therein lies two of the most common myths when it comes to behavior change. That making change is simple, and that making said change is just a matter of willpower. Those two myths are the root of a great deal of shame when it comes to change.
If we assume that developing a new habit, or breaking an old habit is simple, then we are upset and frustrated with ourselves when we find the change harder to make than when our friend set out to make the same change. There’s something wrong with us. We are incapable of change. We just need to try harder and put in more effort.
The same can be said of believing that our behaviors are simply a matter of willpower. We berate ourselves when we don’t have the discipline to start or stop a new behavior. We just need more willpower.
And yet we already have a ton of willpower – we use that resource to do our jobs, to take care of our families, and to be a responsible member of society. Our struggle to make positive self-change is more complicated than self-control or effort.
There are so many other factors at play.
Going back to the client whose goal it is to get to the gym three times per week and change her diet and who is struggling.
We continued to meet over the course of the next few months – she made some progress, but after six months was disappointed in herself that she hadn’t accomplished more. She hit some goals and missed others and was trying to decide whether or not being healthier was even worth her effort (see the post from a few weeks ago about our monitor).
Over time, our conversations gradually switched from setting SMART goals to talking about other aspects of our life. She talked about how her life-long battle with weight has always hung heavy over her head. We talked about her shame – about her struggle to love herself and her body – we talked about her ambivalence about the process. How she both wanted to lose weight and also feared making some of these changes.
She found a good therapist.
Then she started really doing the hard work, about past traumas and hurt, about grief, about identity. As she had those conversations, she began to find more room in her emotional world to make some of the SMART goals. She got to the gym. And she started taking back her life, piece by piece.
The story isn’t based on any one person. It’s based on hundreds of interactions I’ve had with clients over the years. The thing about this whole behavior change process is that it’s wound up pretty tight with this whole feeling thing. And this emotion thing. And this life thing.
So if you are one of those people reading this post right now and feeling like changing habits should be easier, or you just need to try harder, stop for a minute and challenge those thoughts. Dig a little deeper. Examine your defensiveness. Examine your ambivalence.
And try to give yourself some grace. Because as much as I love Nike, change is never as easy as just doing it.
In this moment, do you accept yourself just as you are?
I know. Heavy question for a Wednesday afternoon, or whenever you’re reading this.
But I’ll ask it again; in this very moment, do you accept yourself just as you are? I don’t. There aren’t many days when I do actually.
“What is
It’s just a funk.
I’m teaching a personal development workshop at the gym.
I’m holding a space for people to work on self-improvement at the gym.
The window opened out onto the roof of the porch. On a gray spring day, I lifted up the window and stepped out onto the roof, and sat down, my hands around my knees. I pulled the hood of my sweatshirt tight around my face, and pulled the sleeves over my hands.
In the distance, I could see the faint blue line of Lake Erie bumping up against the charcoal gray sky.
I myself am entirely made of flaws, stitched together by good intentions. – Augusta Burroughs
I drove by her every day for almost a year.
Not directly by her per se.
But I drove past the town and the nursing home where she lived each time I visited my parents.
I can’t say that I thought of her every time I passed the exit, but gradually, as the days and weeks and months sailed by, my avoidance became louder and louder.
Shameful feelings rattled around in my head as I felt like the irresponsible granddaughter who lacked the respect and courtesy to even stop by and say hello to her own grandmother.
I loved my grandmother very much, but I didn’t really know her. Not the way that my niece and nephew know my own mother, as someone who plays with them and goes to all of their plays and dances and sporting events. She babysat us sometimes, but never came to any of my little league or high school games.
This is just one of the many flaws I think of about myself when I do any kind of self-reflecting.
I wrote her a few letters in college and got the kind of response that she was capable of – a note to say hello and tell me about the weather and then sign off by not wanting to keep me; she did that often. In letters or in a phone call, she often ended by saying something like “well, I don’t want to keep you,” as though my conversation with her was a burden.
In some ways I guess it became that.
By the time I was in my late twenties and working odd jobs in Western Pennsylvania she no longer lived in her old farm house. The stairs had become too much and so she moved in, first with my parents, and then in a retirement home. I’d walk in the door and the t.v. would be on, playing some day time game show, and around the room were lined reclining chairs and people who seemed neither lucid nor interested in being lucid.
I suppose that it was that lack of interest that scared me the most.
Any time I walked through the doors of that place, the place where she ultimately died in 2009, I felt a sense of loss. An incredible, intolerable sense of a collective giving up on life.
If 2020 were a piece of furniture, it would not be a hat rack.
Because there has not been one thing that you can hang your hat on this year. Typically there are many things you can rely on happening in any given year. Opening day for baseball for instance. College football in the fall. Kids going back to school. The school year even starting. The presidential election being decided on the actual day of the election.
These are all events that, up until this year, most of us could arguably say would happen no matter what.
What is the best part of what I do?
Healthy striving
Five ways to hit the reset button
In all honesty what I really wanted to title this post was five strategies for surviving the soul-sucking winter of discontent that is February in New England.
But that seemed a bit wordy (and a bit negative) so I put it in the first line instead.
This morning as I chipped enough ice off of my car to snap my ice scraper and stood in the rain long enough for the rain to wash all of the gel out of my hair, I let out a string of expletives that would make a trucker blush.
Because I chose to live in New England. And every February I find myself squealing when I swing my bare feet out of bed and onto the frosty hard wood floors. I have free will, and I used that choice to ensure that I, as a Steelers’ fan, I would forever be surrounded by Pats’ fans AND the dark cold despair that is this time of year.
Ah, but I digress.
The bottom line is that this time of year is often a struggle when you live in the Northeast. The shininess of the new year has worn off, or in this case, has basically become an extension of 2020. We’re between football and baseball seasons (pitchers and catchers report today though!), and are looking forward to warmer temperatures that are hopefully around the corner.
But in the meantime, what do you do?
1. Act against it.
I’ve written about this strategy in the past and it has been a go-to for me often when I’m feeling low. Sometimes it’s good to lean into the pull to do nothing, but more often than not, you’ll feel better if you resist the urge to huddle up on the couch and do nothing for the night.
What is something that you know makes you feel better? Exercising? Listening to upbeat music? Calling a friend?
A few weeks ago my college roommates wanted to hop on a Zoom call on a Saturday night. I didn’t want to talk to anyone, but after some cajoling from them I hopped on for the chat. And it didn’t take very long before there was a lot of laughing and I felt immensely better.
Which brings me to number two…
2. Laugh
If you want a good laugh, check out “Death to 2020” on Netflix. Or any comedy special by Jim Gaffigan. Or go waaaaay back and check out some classic Bob Newhart. Love that guy. Regardless of what it is that makes you not just chuckle, but full-on belly laugh, go looking for it, seek it out, and laugh. It not only burns calories but it also helps you complete the stress cycle.
3. Look for the natural highs.
I remember learning about natural highs in high school. Things like waking up before your alarm and realizing that you have another hour to sleep. Or putting on a new pair of squishy socks. Turning the seat warmer on in your car. Taking the first sip of coffee in the morning. Look for those things.
4. Find something to look forward to.
I’m not even talking about trips, though hopefully there is a light at the end of the tunnel that will allow for more vacations and travel. I am looking forward to when my parents are both vaccinated and I can see my niece and nephew in person again. Try to think not just long-term, but short-term as well. What are you looking forward to today? This weekend? Next month?
I have a new journal that asks this question of me everyday. And I’ve found myself recognizing some of the small things. Looking forward to getting in my car on my drive home to listen to more of my book. Getting into bed after a long day. Learning to look forward to the little things can make a huge difference.
5. Dig out the good tunes.
Over the weekend I dove into my vinyl collection and pulled a few of my favorite albums (Petula Clark, Sam Cooke and Marvin Gaye…) and I just sat in my living room and listened to the tunes. I didn’t have any agenda, I didn’t try to work or do anything.
I did, however, sing “This is My Song” very loudly, much to Sheila’s chagrin.
But hey - I felt better :-)
Cleaning, Safety, & COVID Protocols
Dear Community Members,
As we continue to operate safe operating procedures for the safety and well-being of our clients, our team, and their families, we want to keep you updated with the protocols we have in place. This will be updated as they change, and we will continue to follow the orders of the State of Maine and the Maine CDC.
We also know there may be people, regardless of our protocols in place, that are not comfortable coming into a facility. We encourage you to check out our outdoor offerings during the warmer months, as well as our STREAM services, which is our virtual training platform. You can learn more here.
With that in mind, here are what things look like at Spurling to keep you safe and comfortable.
All people in the building are required to wear masks including all staff and all clients.
We have adjusted our programming and facility layout to allow clients to have their own individual working space in their session, a “pod” as we call it. This allows ample space, marked off with tape, and 14’ of distance between you and the next client during any exercise.
All of our sessions are limited so that each client has their own pod, and all our sessions are scheduled on our appointment app so that we know exactly who and how many clients to expect each hour.
All clients have their own equipment in their pod. That means no sharing of equipment for the duration of your training session.
In addition to not needing to share equipment, and physically distancing each client, we have hourly cleaning protocols in place covering every square inch of the facility.
We keep sessions to 50 minutes to allow our team time to clean the facility for the next session, in addition to the cleaning that goes on throughout the session.
We also have a commercial-grade HEPA air purification system in the gym that puts fresh clean air in the gym multiple times per hour.
We’re excited to continue to make strides forward with this “new normal.”
We hope this message not only shows the community just how proactive we’re being with your safety but also opens the opportunity for you to check us out for your health and wellness needs as we have updated our cleaning and safety protocols and offerings.
1% Better.
Dedicated To Your Success,
Doug Spurling & The Spurling Fitness Team
The challenge to live bigger
Recently, I came across a box of old notebooks that I’d brought home from my parents’ house last summer. I shook the dust off of the lid and picked up a stack of the vanilla lined notebooks we were given in high school.
I opened up the first notebook from an English class and had to play a little trombone (and then put on my progressives) to read the words. I’d forgotten just how small I used to write in high school and college.
That small writing was purposeful, not because I wanted to torture my teachers and force them to adopt bifocals before they turned 50, but because I made every effort to take up as little space as possible in all areas of my life.
I was painfully shy and wilted under any kind of attention, positive or negative, and spent much of my time trying to disappear. I worked hard to take up as little space as possible.
As an adult, I’ve worked hard to feel that I have a right to live bigger.
When I say live bigger, what I really mean is to take risks. I started taking those risks when I worked at a weekly newspaper. I wrote stories and took photos and did a weekly column and my name was on everything. Some people liked my work, some people didn’t, and I withered under the weight of my exposure. After one particularly critical email regarding one of my pieces, I walked away from writing publicly. It would be 13 years before I tried again, when I began keeping a blog.
It is hard sometimes, for many of us, to put our real, authentic selves out to the world. To share our creativity, our artwork, our writing. A quick glance through YouTube or any other social media platform quickly highlights the risks that we take by putting ourselves out there. In this day of endless access to technology, it is easy for many people to lob hurtful comments and cruel observations behind the veil of anonymity.
There are many ways that we might struggle to take up space. When I joined my first commercial gym I felt so out of place and so clueless that I struggled to feel like I had a right to any space in the gym. It took me months to learn how to respectfully claim space for me.
One of the greatest gifts I’ve received while working here at Spurling is learning to let myself live a bit bigger. As Doug and I recorded our 100th podcast on Monday, that was one of the observations I shared with him. I have learned, and I continue to learn how to take more risks and put more of my authentic self out there to the world.
So whatever project, whatever daydream, whatever woolgather (what a fantastic synonym for daydream) you have, I hope that you can find it within yourself to follow through – to take the risk. Because the world might be a bit scarier when you start to share more of yourself, but it’s a better place when you do.
Have you ever felt stuck?
Have you ever felt stuck?
As in, sitting here during a nasty winter storm trying to write a blog post kind of stuck?
Sometimes these posts come quickly - but sometimes I have to fight for every word. I spend a lot of time around writing feeling stuck. I spend a lot of time “thinking” about writing.
Turns out there’s a name for that stuck feeling:
Chronic contemplation.
Contemplation is the second of the six stages of change (also known as the Trans-theoretical Model): Pre-contemplation, contemplation, preparation, action, maintenance, and termination. (From the book “Changing For Good).
In pre-cotemplation people are often unaware that they need to make a change, are being nagged by others to make a change, or are so resigned to their situation that they feel that change is hopeless.
In the contemplation stage, people are aware of a behavior they need to change and begin to think seriously about solving it. But this is the stage where many of us get stuck. We find ourselves in a place of chronic contemplation.
A few months ago I wrote a post called “Thinking Isn’t Doing.” And without realizing it, I was writing about this very subject. The challenge with this part of change is that we substitute thinking for acting and I don’t know about any of you, but I EXHAUST myself with thinking.
Like, wear my brain straight out.
Signs that you’re stuck in this phase include:
Waiting for something or someone
I’ll start the new plan on Monday. After my birthday. The beginning of the month. When I get a raise. You’re always waiting for someday to be the “right” day.Searching for absolute certainty
I’m going to research this subject until my eyes are bleeding and I’m certain that I’ve found the best approach. I will spend months reading up on different diets, different forms of exercises, different websites about how to write a book until I am convinced I have the right approach.
You feel ambivalent
I think this last one the toughest one of all and I hear it all of the time. You want to change, you really do. But at the same time, you also feel a resistance to it.
But what is the resistance?
Well, it turns out that some of that resistance is flat out ambivalence. You want to change, but you’re afraid to change, even if you’re unaware of that fear. According to the book referenced above, no matter how healthy or how good for us a change might be, making any kind of change threatens our security.
I’m not sure that I think about change threatening my security. But it absolutely threatens my comfort. Change means sacrificing habits and perhaps a lifestyle that is very familiar. Or, as is often the case with ambivalence around our creative-side, there is a fear of failure.
I think this ambivalence is heightened right now with COVID. Because we might desperately want to make some healthy changes, but we are also desperately clinging to all that is familiar.
So if you fall into this category, what do you do?
You watch Chariots of Fire. Kidding. Well, kind of. It might be Rocky. (Or Creed - loved that movie.) One suggestion researchers recommend is tapping into your emotions. What is it that gets you fired up? What song? What movie? What YouTube video?
This is also why many people find motivating words and phrases helpful - those words tap into their emotions.
And on that note, I’ll leave you with one of my favorite quotes:
“It’s never too late to become what you might have been.” George Elliot
When you feel like quitting
It happens to most of us at one time or another.
We set a goal for ourselves, enthusiastically make a plan of execution, hammer out the first day or week or month of action towards said goal and we’re feeling good.
Until progress towards that goal feels slow or non-existent, then we find ourselves screaming silently into one of the seven pillows on our couch. (Because yes, I do have too many pillows to sit down on my couch…)
We talk at great length at Spurling and in the fitness industry about the importance of having a why – our goals need to have some type of meaning to us and if they don’t, it can be difficult to find ways to persist.
But sometimes even when a goal has meaning, if we don’t see some progress, there is an overwhelming sense of what’s the whole point of this?
When this feeling over-takes us, and we do throw in the towel and skip the workouts and eat whatever we want, we assume that it’s because we lack willpower, or we just weren’t disciplined enough.
Or we decide that our plan of action was flawed, and we need to find another plan of action.
Few things are more discouraging in making change than not seeing any progress. As it turns out, our brains are hard-wired to need to see success in order to continue our efforts.
There is a part of our brain that is technically called the “discrepancy-reducing, discrepancy increasing feedback loop” and “criterion velocity.” But in the book “Burnout,” authors Emily and Amelia Nagoski refer to this part of the brain as The Monitor.
Your Monitor knows what your goal is, how much effort you’re investing in that goal, and how much progress you’re making. And it’s hanging off on the sidelines of your life keeping score of your effort-to-progress ratio.
And if that ratio isn’t what the Monitor thinks it should be, you can end up with a very strong case of the “screw-its.”
So first of all, there is nothing wrong with you if you suddenly feel like throwing in the towel on your goal because you haven’t seen progress. It’s not because you lack willpower or discipline.
But it does mean that you may need to think about your goal in a slightly different way if you want to keep your Monitor from sabotaging your progress.
According to the Nagoski sisters, you need to reframe your goals in a way that satisfies your Monitor.
One of my current goals is to train Vinnie, my 8-month-old basset hound, to be a well-behaved dog who doesn’t incessantly whine when he doesn’t get his way and stops trying to climb out of the window every time Sheila leaves the house BECAUSE I’M YOUR PARENT TOO VINNIE. JUST BECAUSE YOU’RE A COVID BABY DOESN’T MEAN I’M NOT YOUR MOTHER.
Ahem.
Expecting Vinnie to be well-behaved and not the most disruptive student during puppy class is not a goal that’s going to satisfy my Monitor or preserve my sanity.
But if I re-frame the way I think about thee goal, and brainstorm incremental goals I can keep my Monitor satisfied with my progress (and Vinnie’s progress). According to the authors of “Burnout,” those goals should be soon, certain, positive, concrete, specific and personal.
Soon - your goal should be achievable.
Certain - on a scale of 1-10, how confident are you in achieving your goal? If it’s below an 8, you’ll need to adjust.
Positive - It should be something that feels good and not something that avoids suffering.
Concrete - Measurable. Put your fork down between bites during at least two meals per week.
Specific - Wanting Vinnie to be a well-behaved goal is pretty general - wanting him to listen and perform in puppy class is specific.
Personal - Why does this goal matter to you? As Doug has written about often, we need to feel connected to our why or it’s going to be hard to keep our Monitor in check.
So if you’re starting to get to a place of “what’s the point” when thinking about your goals, it might be time to take a step back, re-evaluate, and apply the criteria above.
You can do this. Whatever your “this” is.