We all tell ourselves stories, and all too often, we forget that they are just stories.
They aren’t fact.
They’re just a story.
Often they’re so out of touch with what actually IS that they’re ridiculous.
It’s a bit ridiculous that I have a story about not being a consistent person that I don’t know how to follow through.
It’s utter bullshit, really.
I can tell you where it came from, but that’s not really important, is it?
What’s important is knowing that just because you have a story doesn’t mean it’s true.
A story is just that—a STORY.
Maybe a part of it was at one time true. Or maybe not.
Maybe the whole damn thing is fiction.
A story is just a story.
And your stories help determine how you show up, what you do, what you achieve.
This story of mine that I’m utterly horrible at being consistent can keep me from even starting—if I let it.
Choosing to buy into the stories we tell ourselves is a motherfucking choice.
This story about being inconsistent is such crap. I can pull many examples from my life where I have, in fact, BEEN consistent. Times where I followed through and did what I said I would.
When this story pops up as it does from time to time, some days, it feels a bit like playing Whac-A-Mole.
On those days, I remind myself that I have been super fucking consistent with working out.
Today marks 1,039 consecutive days of working out.
Now to be clear, not every workout was a high-intensity, dripping in sweat, “holy hell, I’m going to feel this tomorrow” workout. (I don’t think that is ever a healthy workout strategy.)
But, it is 1,039 days of intentionally moving my body in a way that is nourishing and supportive of feeling my best.
Some days are the “holy hell that was wicked intense! I’m not sure I can make it off the floor” workouts. Others are a restorative yoga class and everything in between.
The style of workout isn’t what’s really important. The important bit is the CONSISTENCY.
Every day for 1,039 days, I’ve intentionally moved my body.
Days where my degenerative disc disease was acting up—I moved.
Days with migraines—I moved.
Days where my hip was out of alignment—I moved.
No matter what—
The consistency is what matters.
The flexibility in how I worked out is what matters.
The trust in my body to tell me what I needed to feel better is what matters.
The follow-through on the decision I made at the end of April back in 2018 is what matters.
The self-discipline matters.
When that old story about not being consistent pops up, the knowledge that for 1,039 days, I’ve kept my commitment to work out every day—that matters.
The stories you tell yourself may have once been true or partly true. But they don’t have to stay that way.
Before deciding to work out daily, there were YEARS of trying to follow a 4- or 5-day schedule. That never worked for me.
Inevitably Wednesday or Thursday would hit, and I’d know that getting in the 4 or 5 workouts was no longer possible for the week. So, I’d flake out with the promise to myself that I’d start again on Monday.
Over and over, the cycle repeated.
Until I hit the point of enough is enough.
Clearly, how I’d been approaching it wasn’t working, and I needed something different.
On May 1, 2018, the plan was made to start my daily workout schedule.
I rocked it.
totally got this.
daily workouts are working.
Let’s start this again.
Today… 1,039 days and going strong.
It started with the decision.
It continued by continually deciding to stick to the damn decision.
It’s stuck because I refused to allow ANYTHING to stop me from getting in my workout.
It’s not hard to be consistent.
It’s not hard to follow through on what you want.
What’s hard are the wishy-washy commitments.
Let go of the stories keeping you from being All. The. Fuck. In.
Remember, you absolutely can Love Your Life and Live Your Dreams. It all begins within.