I took a trip to our university's gym today, as I do somewhat often but very sporadically, and I couldn't help but notice a certain population boom in the gym's parking lot. This is the new year, and, as expected, many have made their various resolutions to lose weight, get in shape, and adopt a healthier lifestyle--and they've taken the first steps toward realizing these goals. They should be very proud.
Armed with only a book and a hilariously oversized water bottle, I ventured inside to find a wide variety of people pounding away on weight training machines. I ascended the stairs to find others seemingly determined to run their treadmills or pedal their bikes until some major organ gave out. In any case, they were all oblivious to their surroundings and demonstrated a razor-sharp concentration on the exercise at hand. They all became one with their machines in a beautiful display of synergy. I couldn't help but smile on the inside and respect their efforts, and I just hoped that I could match their sense of dedication to their own deeply personal causes. The idealist in me couldn't help but believe that this may well be the year that they all succeed--and, well, if they can realize their various goals, then there might just be hope for me, too.
But a certain realization came to me: the parking lot tends to look more and more barren as the beginning months of the year wear on. It seems as though the straight and narrow road of self-discipline tapers off so gradually that one is unaware of what has happened until he reaches his own personal version of the vanishing point at the end. Resolutions are forgotten or deemed impossible. Goals become much more lax as time passes. Feelings of frustration and inadequacy overwhelm many, overshadowing that strong initial sense of pride. Others are slowly consumed by their old habits and thought patterns--those that they believe should belong to last year or to the "old me"--which begin to whittle away at their once-valiant efforts toward self-improvement. They then shake the dust off of their soon-to-be-shelved exercise uniforms, forgive themselves with an inner display of compassion typically reserved only for the most downtrodden among us, and get on with their old lives.
Another realization came to me, this one more poignant and humble: I am exactly that sort of person. In fact, I'm even worse than they are--I have absolutely no clearly-defined goals or resolutions. I'm just sauntering around the gym with no real plan or reason at all. In short, I'm no self-starter, and I'd be lying if I were to describe myself as one.
Let me explain this nature of mine in greater detail, with a few examples and generalizations that might resonate with others out there. (I hope they do, since it always helps to not feel so alone..)
A good friend of mine once asked what sort of budget I maintained. My response? "I don't really keep a budget; when it kind of looks like I'm buying too much stuff, I just try to buy less stuff." I'm pretty sure that I then followed up by shrugging in a halfway-embarassed manner, feeling guilt and shame over my own ingrained perception that I should be able to exercise more discipline in my daily life. Alas, I do not possess strict military-grade determination.
Unfortunately, there's more. I know that I can't set my alarm more than a few days in a row without convincing myself to sleep in at some inconvenient time. I'm forgetful about various mundane details and important, overreaching goals alike. I can't keep a regimented schedule at all. And I typically have junk food in the house only when I plan to have friends over, because otherwise, I'd ravage box after box of trans-fat-tastic goodies and leave but crumb-sized memories of their contents sprawled about my living room.
My impulse-driven, compulsive need to absolutely devour things that are pleasing to the senses manifests itself in other ways, too. I'll listen to the same set of my favorite songs over and over until I'm absolutely sick of them, then discard them. I dive headfirst into new hobbies or interesting activities--into the deep end, no less--and nearly drown in the process. Favorite foods are no longer "favorite" after a week of straight indulgence in them. My poor, poor overstuffed and overstretched dopamine receptors would surely wage war against the decision-making area of my brain, if the latter weren't so erratic, impulsive, unpredictable, and absolutely unstoppable.
Indeed, the meticulous engineering type within me would cringe at the reality of my psyche if he were more self-aware--and if he actually came out at all in my personal life. In fact, I'm almost positive that he exists only as a figment of my sometimes hyperactive imagination, since I never hear him pipe up in these instances. At the very least, I'd expect him to take more proactive measures than simply stirring up feelings of intense guilt within me.
Hey, the truth hurts.. but only until you accept it, embrace it, and move forward. And sometimes, you have to be creative and work around it entirely.
I am clearly no role model when it comes to self-discipline. I certainly have an admiration for those who do have that gift, but, unfortunately, I cannot pretend that I could ever place myself in a position where I could give meaningful advice to those individuals, nor can I reproduce this gift within myself.
But here's another tendency of mine: when I'm involved in something that captures my interest, I completely lose track of time. In fact, I lose all sense and perspective of the concept of time itself. Certain books, movies, and personal projects will beckon me to stay with them until the sun rises again. I then greet the upcoming day with a zoned-out stare emanating from a pair of bloodshot, tired eyes.
Yeah, an awesome feeling, that is.. absolutely awesome.
So, it's apparent that I'm driven by my own sense of interest and creativity. Maybe you are, too. Consider the possibility, or at least play along for curiosity's sake.
For people like us, what's the main problem with most exercise? It's mind-numbingly boring. On an exercise bike, you just sort of move your legs some pedals underneath you rotate, while some numbers on a display increase and others decrease. I mean, there are some flashing lights and other stimuli, sure, but they're about as enamoring and immersive as a third-rate ColecoVision game. If that somehow excites you.. then you, my wonderful friend, are way too easily amused and beyond hope.
For those who can tolerate adverse weather, there's certainly the option to go outside. Running a track or an unfamiliar nature trail might provide enough of a grounding and sensory experience to keep your mind off of the mundane task of actually running. But the lucky individuals who can stomach such an endeavor are likely pretty self-disciplined and determined enough anyway. And I personally do not have the attention span for that; even in cooperative weather, my mind would wander; I'd probably trip and fall, break a leg or two, and never hope to run again. Sort of defeats the purpose of trying to run at all. Oh, and I like my climate-controlled conditions.
What did I arm myself with when I went to the gym and attempted to thwart my own lack of self-discipline? A water bottle and a book. The water bottle was there to keep me from passing out (and having my fellow exercisers ridicule and pity me), while the book was my own personal way to make exercising interesting enough to tolerate. If I've got an intriguing book with me, I can pedal that exercise bike until I break its chains--or, at least, until I finish the book. If I find that the book is not interesting at all, however, I may very well give up, head to the library, and try again.
This idea is certainly not a well-kept secret. I see others reading, texting away on their phones, or listening to music as they slave away on their individual machines. Their particular distractions are personally tailored to their own sense of curiosity and interest.
The point? Keeping things interesting during mundane tasks helps immensely when it comes to actually completing them. This mindset applies to all kinds of tasks and goals, exercise-related or not. I am admittedly hard-pressed to think of examples outside of the realm of exercise, but I do have a silver bullet. Actually, it's a bit lackluster, but it works in most instances.
I know that schedules and routine are absolutely boring. They are the bane of the undisciplined. I cannot schedule exercise a few times a week in my calendar and seriously hope that that in and of itself provides me enough motivation to actually do it. In this instance, I rely upon other people.
Group accountability is a fairly powerful--and often underutilized--motivator. For me, this comes in the form of group exercise classes. While I'm not exactly best friends with the others in these classes, the fact that someone else has scheduled this time for me means that they won't budge from that time--that precious block of time allocated toward the task will not slip as readily as it would if it were under my control.
Just as importantly, it also gives me a feasible, tangible task to accomplish, one that is less daunting than the exercise itself--I simply arrive at this time and do as everyone around me does; my brain is either on autopilot or completely focused.
This powerful tool can take on other forms as well. Simply having a partner or a group of friends with similar aims can provide the kind of motivation one needs. Working with others provides a chance to talk with other people, something that makes the chore much more interesting. Quite often, this can also breed a communal, productive discussion of the struggles and triumphs inherent in each individual's journey toward the same general goal.
In a way, people like us actually are self-starters--it's just a matter of figuring out what form the ignition switch takes within us and how exactly to engage it.
The methods I've relayed are fairly obvious to anyone who has struggled with a similar problem. My primary motivation is not just to share them (although a repackaging of common sense never hurts), but to provide some insight into the mindset of someone who has struggles that may be strikingly similar to your own in the kind of endeavor that many are attempting during this time of year.
(Indeed, those who only halfway know me would never describe me as undisciplined or unmethodical--well, it's true; it turns out that I just work around it.)
So, if you feel as though you're just plain undisciplined and unable to attain the same goals and accomplishments as those around you, don't fret. Turn to what motivates you as an individual, and know first and foremost that others before you have made it and are cheering you on, eagerly and excitedly waiting for you to join them.