I like to look at the world a bit differently. It’s what inspires me to do things that don’t necessarily fit with the norms. For example, I was inspirational to a few maybe, but mostly bonkers to many who found out I was dropping everything I had done and achieved in England to move to rural Portugal.
Indeed, selling my house, giving up my business and taking my kids out of school to hop on a plane to Portugal with no house, job or school to go to was a little different. But I put my trust in tomorrow. I heard it coming. Ok, now I sound completely bonkers! Let me explain.
I’ll start with a quote from David Bowie. He said,”Tomorrow belongs to those who can hear it coming.”
If you know anything about Bowie then we can understand what he meant by that. From characters like Ziggy Stardust and Aladdin Sane to talking openly about gender fluidity and racial injustice in the 70’s and 80’s, he was always one step ahead of social norms. This was further proven when Jeremy Paxman asked Bowie about his opinion of the internet back in 1999. Bowie said,”I think the potential of what the internet is going to do to society, both good and bad, is unimaginable.” He went on to describe it as an alien life form that will crush our ideas of what mediums are all about.
Well, he wasn’t wrong, was he?
And even up to his recording of his final album, Blackstar, Bowie always knew more than the rest of us. He didn’t have super powers, he just heard tomorrow coming.
It’s possible to hear if you listen hard enough. But why would you want to?!
Tomorrow is a day that can bring hope, ideas and value. And to some extent, if you can hear it, you can prepare much better for it which can mean fresh hope, new ideas and better value to your life. And, seeing as it’s close to a new year, one could say the same for that too.
I heard tomorrow coming and as bonkers as it might sound, with a great deal of determination and preparation, moving to another country with no home, job or school wasn’t too bad. My wife and I planned daily what we would do as soon as we set foot off of the plane. We had planned it daily for some time. In fact, we had heard tomorrow coming for years.
So it might seem like I look at the world differently, but maybe I’m just keeping an ear to the ground… Bowie style.
Louise asked me to go to a meditation guide with her. I politely said no.
This was 9 years ago when we lived in Pudsey, Leeds and Lou had just given birth to our second child. She needed a moment each week to be able to find some head space away from a toddler, a baby and a husband spending hours at the gym trying to pick up new clients as a fledgling personal trainer. Lou was a full time mum. The hardest job in the world.
I said no because I felt that I had my therapy in the form of working out at the gym. I was obsessed with not just what it gave me aesthetically, but the endorphins it released. It was my natural drug. My focus. I explained this to Lou but meditation with a qualified guide was something that she wanted us to try together.
In an effort to support her and to show an interest in something that had positively touched her life, I eventually went to the meditation guide with Lou. It was in a wellbeing centre in Pudsey. I can’t remember the cost exactly. Maybe £30 or £40 for the hour. I was sceptical about it. I mean, how could it affect me in the same way it had Lou? My therapy was in a gym!
Yet strangely, as I reflected on my first experience of the meditation session, I found many similarities to that of the gym. The gym is where I can shut out the noise of the world. In fact, I disliked gyms that had a radio playing with hourly news broadcasts. For that moment in my life I didn’t want to hear about financial crashes, wars or politics. The only problem I wanted swimming around my head is how I engaged with the particular exercise that I was performing, be it a deadlift, bench press, squat, whatever. That is all I wanted in my mind.
Similarly, as I gained more experience in meditation, I found that very same focus in this practice. I only wanted to focus on my breathing and feeling my chest rise and fall as I did so. Clutter would leave my head, instead I visualised health, success, future goals and happiness.
I began to realise that, although the gym was my happy place where I could feel safe, adding meditation into my life was like a superpower! A gym routine and regular meditation was a superpower. My breathing during exercise became better, not just during exercise, but in stressful situations. I could remain calmer under pressure. I focussed even closer on my life goals. I dwelled less on missed past opportunities and began mapping out a future for me and my family. Together, my training and meditation routines did that.
I’m so glad that Lou went to a meditation session all those years ago and I’m relieved that I eventually went with her. I have just finished filming with A New Life In The Sun for this season in my home in Portugal. I’m looking out at the forest, the swimming pool, my gym space and the massage room and I practically visualised this exact picture for years in my mind during training and meditation. My aim was to help others achieve their goals and that is what I’m now doing through the wellbeing centre (Centro de bem estar).
However you choose to gain focus on what matters to you in life, practice it consistently and believe in it. Become obsessed by it. Tell the universe that you will do it, no matter what. And then live it.
Some movie directors don’t just make great movies. They know that what they produce will be a master class, but it is the ease in which they can add their subtle in jokes, social commentary, artistic influences or homages to other bodies of work without distracting the audience away from the story.
Think Hitchcock with his cameo appearances or the use of Starbucks cups in almost every scene of Fight Club. These are known as Easter eggs that the viewer can hunt during the movie. Other hunts to look out for is the use of Tarantino’s very own imagined brand of cigarettes throughout his movies, Red Apple. Or the use of oranges in The Godfather trilogy. If you spot an orange in one of those movies, it is likely to lead to the death of a key character.
Fincher added the Starbucks cups as a metaphor for the corporate influence in everyday life.
These aren’t meant as a distraction maybe in the way that a Macguffin is (I’ve written about that too!), but more of a signature from the artist. It is something that can be detected throughout their work. It is uniquely theirs.
Well, although I’m not in Hollywood and I’m not a famous movie director, I want to be a great in the art of movie making. It’s just that this movie will be of my own life.
We’re all making our own movies. We can create the ups and downs of a drama, the twists and turns of a thriller. We can create the laugh out loud comedy moments and, like it or not, direct our own horror.
And a great director can tell the story and even add in the Easter egg too! But it isn’t about being accepted by others. A good director will create something that they want to create, not what is expected of them. Kubrick, Hitchcock and Tarantino are three of my favourite directors, but have never won a best director Oscar. Sergio Leone was never even nominated.
But what do that all have in common? They are blaze trailers at what they do and not just followers of a common theme that satisfies the masses. Sure, they became popular from making great movies. But them ripping up the genre rule book is what made them great, not because they were trying to be popular. This, it seems, irritated mainstream Hollywood to the point that it overlooked some of the greatest directors of our time.
We can still be great directors of our own lives without satisfying everyone. I’d even go as far as to say that, if you don’t piss a few people off you’re not doing it right.
We need to hire the best actors and extras onto our set. We should experiment with different scenery. We can write our own script. And we can do it all without having to please everyone. But remember to spice things up a little and add your own Easter egg hunt. It keeps things interesting!
Lou and I discussed which parasol to put up in the AL courtyard. It was an important day for us today. The builder was finishing off the bits and bobs that he needed to do, we were taking photos so that we could upload them onto a booking site and we were being filmed by the A New Life In The Sun camera man.
The parasol discussion was ideal for ANLITS. They like to film us deciding on the colour of bed sheets, where to put the solar lights, problem solving with the builders and which parasol would be suitable for the courtyard table.
But then an alert on Lou’s phone gave the camera man ANLITS gold. It was like a dream to a lifestyle reality TV camera man. It was a message from the local council (CAMARA) to inform us about our application to rent out our renovated house. Capturing this in real time was going to make perfect TV (for those interested in the programme). The moment of pure joy or a crushing setback was about to be filmed in real life!
But then came the longest five minutes. First of all, it required a wardrobe change. We had been in our building clothes all morning. A quick freshen up was needed. Oh, and then the email had to be translated into English. The five minute wait seemed to last a lifetime as we processed the Portuguese words into the Deeple app to change it to English. I noticed Lou’s hand shaking. Our voices quivered as we addressed the camera and read out the email. All observed by the willing camera man.
After the formalities it finally read ‘we are pleased to inform you that there are no objections to your licence’. The relief was felt in Lou’s voice as she further read out our official registration number which is necessary to show the relevant booking sites that we are to use.
For some unknown reason I still had hold of the parasol looking like some deranged Mary Poppins as I gleefully high fived Lou and hurrahed towards the camera. My emotions, despite this, were kept conservative but inside it felt like scoring the winner in the final.
My brain wanted to fist pump the air and shout ‘get in!!’ but I knew I was being filmed so I just held the parasol tightly and tried to stay calm.
We have been asked many times about a plan B, but the reality is that we came to Portugal without one. Our business plan, which actually started out as glamping rather than a house, was our only plan. That, of course, and the added wellbeing centre that we have yet to complete. All of our hopes were pinned on this moment in receiving the go-ahead from the local council.
But that is how we have approached this whole move. We had taken our children out of school and shut down our existing businesses before our visa approval. Indeed, we were on the coach to Sertá when Lou was still negotiating a time in which our house sale in England would be finalised. The people on the coach will have learned some new colourful English words on that journey.
Nothing was going to stop us.
I’ve heard that you get more careful in decision making as you get older. Ours, in an attempt for a better quality of life for our children and a business idea itch that just needed to be scratched, has had an opposite effect. We simply couldn’t sit on our hands anymore. We had dreams. None of which, we felt, could be accomplished in the UK. And there is no guarantee of success in Portugal either. That is why the same focus needs to be applied. We need to continue chasing our dreams. Long into our lives.
As CS Lewis quite rightly put it,”You are never too old to set a new goal or to dream a new dream.”
I remember taking a penalty kick for my school football team and the pressure was unreal. A few parents and a man and his dog stood on the touchline as I put the ball on the penalty spot. The weight of the team’s expectations felt heavy on my shoulders. I missed. I wasn’t a natural goalscorer, but I tried.
Other moments of notable sporting anxiety was when I did my first ever ‘fat loss’ class as an instructor at the gym. 30 people stood waiting for my instructions as I waited for the music to kick in. For all of my knowledge and everything I had learnt in instructing a fitness class, I could hardly remember any exercise except for a squat. Nerves are great, it gives me that buzz, but sometimes if they are out of control it doesn’t help for clear thinking.
I also recall my first day at coaching 20 kids on their summer sports activities. I wasn’t a natural like some of the other coaches, but I knew from experience of being a dad that if you demand respect and make something fun and act a bit silly, a bunch of kids will love whatever activity you do. In fact, come to think about it the adults in my exercise class were exactly the same. I wasn’t the coolest, fittest, leanest or strongest instructor, but it’s amazing how far a few dad jokes will get you with kids or adults. We all just want to smile at the end of the day and, whatever is going on at home outside of the gym or summer camp, we remember the moments that we smiled to get us through it.
As I was reflecting on my year so far I began to realise that I seem to excel when I start to feel the adrenaline. I’m at my happiest. It doesn’t always mean that I’ll be the best at something. The penalty kick and my first ever fitness class are examples of that. But had I not put myself forward for these things, or to put it another way, had I not been willing to come out of my comfort zone, then great things would not have followed.
I couldn’t have been a successful personal trainer without that first ever fitness class and I wouldn’t have enjoyed a few seasons at the kids summer sports camp without that awkward first day. Even the missed penalty showed that I was willing to stand up and be a leader. It didn’t do Stuart Pearce or Gareth Southgate any harm.
This year I’ve been interviewed for UK TV about my recent move to Portugal. It will be available to watch in January. You might see that I’m not a natural in front of the camera. And I’ve often been asked about what motivated me to apply to be filmed during such a massive move for me and my family. They don’t pay us for making the show, so it wasn’t money. And the days that they are here can be time consuming as we set up the microphones for interviews. So why do it?! Well, it’s the adrenaline thing again. I work best under pressure. I’m happy to be filmed being challenged with budget difficulties, language barriers and building works. I have to step up and take that penalty again or enter that fitness studio for the first time. It can only improve my character.
Years ago I was talking to a friend who was having difficulty finding employment. He was a hard worker and desperate for work. He told me that he had had many interviews but never got accepted. The main reason for this is that he would clam up and be extremely shy in the interview. I know that he was shy and he found it difficult to hide. Even talking to friends he would sometimes go very red in the face.
My advice to him was to let the interviewers know as soon as you sit down. Explain that, ‘I am very nervous today so please forgive me. I’ll take a deep breath and do my best.’
This will put you and the interviewers at ease and it will also show self awareness, honesty and determination to get past it. He got his next job that he applied for.
Being honest with yourself and those around you is important. If you can enter difficult situations with transparency then the confidence will grow and important skills can be had. But without that first honest step out of your comfort zone then you are not allowing yourself to grow.
Actress Jessica Williams said,”Get more confidence by doing things that excite and frighten you.”
‘There is a hidden message in every waterfall. It says if you are flexible, falling will not hurt you.’ Mehmet Murat Ildan.
As a child and then into my adult life I often felt a sadness that I could not explain. It was deep rooted, as if nothing could ever make me feel settled or comfortable within myself. I longed for something to truly make me happy.
The Portuguese have a term for this which is ‘saudade’. There is no direct translation into English for this word.
But I must explain more clearly. I have had some wonderful experiences in my life. Some things that have given me great memories that I will treasure. My childhood home was a stable, happy home. My early adult life had its turbulence, I suppose, like for most young people but I kept jobs, got promotions, had healthy relationships, studied and learnt new things. As I got older I met my future wife, became a father, bought and sold houses and began new career ventures. And now we live in Portugal with the hope of a bright, exciting future. All of these things have helped me to be happy. But, especially in my earlier life, that sadness in the pit of my core would not vanish completely. It was like a whoosh of anxiety that really felt like a black cloud hanging over me.
In recent years I have discovered ways to help me feel differently. To take away those anxieties.
Exercise and weight training became my release. Damaging muscle fibres in order for them to regenerate was a whole lot better way of self harm than that which had run through my youthful self. And that’s what it felt like. I wanted to punish myself and my body. There were times that I was disgusted at looking at myself in the mirror. Lifting something heavy several times and feeling pain gave me some sort of release.
Then, in later life, as well as keeping an exercise training routine (but a much more positive one these days), I began to meditate. This has enabled me to control my breathing from the core and, knowing that this is where the whooshy anxiety comes from, really helps me to address it from deep within.
Staring At The Waterfall
There’s this image that I had, and seemingly many other people have, that meditation is about sitting cross legged, eyes closed and hands in a certain pose. It is often associated with Buddhism or other religious practices. And there is also this perception of meditation being done in a dark quiet room, perhaps accompanied with chimes or flute music.
Whilst all of these can be done during meditating, it is certainly not my usual go-to style. Today, I stood by a waterfall. I was with my family, so the kids were their usual rowdy selves. It didn’t deter me. For a few moments, I was mesmerized by the sight, sounds and the smells of this waterfall. Every drop of water danced differently to the next. Each sound I captured went from a trickle to a splash. The smell felt fresh, sometimes the scent of a sandy beach caught my attention.
I said that I was mesmorized for a few moments. The truth is it could’ve been just ten seconds or it could have been minutes. I’m not sure. But I soon became aware of the kids strangling each other so I sorted that little issue out before taking a few pictures!
Over the past few years as I have pursued this journey of self enlightenment I have learnt one big lesson. I need to be flexible in nurturing my emotions. Sometimes I trickle. Sometimes I splash. There’s no right or wrong way.
I now know that this deep rooted sadness cannot harm me. I can live for the moment, whether I’m trickling or splashing, and be grateful and happy with my life.
Today I felt like I was the waterfall. And we could argue on whether or not looking at a waterfall is actually meditation, but my conclusion would be that if you have to think about this then you are losing the magic of the moment. Call it what you like. As long as we can take a moment to realise the beauty in something that we might otherwise take for granted. A singing bird. The rustling of a tree. Or a waterfall.
I’ve discovered that it is not what I look at that matters, it is what I see (or hear, touch and smell). I can look at a waterfall that I pass most days, but what I see when I actually take that moment is a work of beauty, history, a creation that tells me a story. It speaks to me.
So my flexibility of thought has enabled me to see, not just look. And maybe I will pass this waterfall a dozen times again and look at it, but I know that when I need to, I will actually see it.
Social media would have you believe that you need to be ready for the catwalk or the front cover of Men’s Health magazine to be successful in the gym.
I also believe that we can get anxious when we see other people’s Instagram posts of them on holidays in some wintery wonderland to visit Santa, sat by a pool in an exotic location or having their picture taken with Mickey Mouse. I’ve done it myself. After seeing someone’s snaps of them and their children in Lapland I suddenly felt inadequate that I wasn’t taking my kids to see Santa in his homeland. I then checked the price of such a holiday and quickly clicked on to Wish to buy a Santa costume. The kids won’t know the difference.
But it isn’t the fault of the parents who put the photos on Instagram. They just want to show their social media friends what a great time they’re having. We rarely see ‘influencers’ taking a selfie on the days they’re feeling bloated and our Facebook friends are not as quick to post the videos where their kids are having a tantrum. No. We all prefer to show the world our best side.
And I am conscious about what I post online, especially since our move to Portugal. When I first mentioned that we were moving to Portugal, most of our friends and family would be like ‘ooh! I don’t blame you with all that sunshine’ or stuff to that effect. Throughout winter I’ve posted pictures of us dining out, in swimming pools and even having a BBQ on Christmas day. The weather, albeit not our greatest motivation for making the move, can be lovely.
But already this week in March we have had to shelter from the heat. Even the Portuguese builders were happy to find jobs to do that were in the shade during the hottest parts of the day. We are beginning to understand the need for siestas. This is where shops and cafes close for a few hours, usually around 2 until 5. People start to pull shutters down on their windows and the streets and roads empty.
As a Brit who hasn’t had this issue before, however, it can be frustrating. We need the builders to get the job done, we need builders merchants to be open for supplies and Lou and I have 20,000 square metres of land to clean before the summer. And even the amount of land would bring about comments on ‘how lovely for the kids’ it is to have so much land. It is, absolutely we will make it wonderful for us and our guests. But at the moment it is a tinder box waiting for the spark. We don’t want a few hours break in the afternoon. Daytime is when we have always got stuff done, while the kids are at school! It’s irritating, but we will have to change. Coming into spring and with summer just around the corner. We’ll need to find different moments in the day where we can work outside. One way or another we need to get it done. Time, as we are discovering, is money.
So in true form, I won’t be posting a picture of Lou and I panicking about the budget of our project. Instead I’m showing you our homemade irrigation system for our vegetable patch. The veg patch is an old chicken coup and, although we discussed having chickens in the future, we decided to use it to grow vegetables for now instead. When we moved into the property there were lots of useful hosepipes hanging around the place and several water taps and bore holes. Cutting a length of pipe and drilling holes into it has provided much needed water for our lettuce.
By the end of the day, and I guess the whole point of this blog, as we sat in the (slightly) cooler evening we talked about how satisfying it was to be creative and, most importantly, to do it together. That might sound silly. After all, we haven’t gone our separate ways to go to work etc for the past 6 months. Lou and I have done everything together. But writing a business plan, filling out VISA forms or putting furniture together isn’t as rewarding as planting some lettuce and providing them with water.
It’s part of our dream. The vision. It’s what we talked about almost every evening in the UK. The sort of veg we would grow and how self sufficient we could become is part of the package on this journey. It’s important to us. And, yes, so are the VISA forms and the flat packed book shelf, but that doesn’t excite us.
I make no apologies for showing you my punctured bit of hose pipe. For now, that’s my Lapland. It’s the ‘look at me with Mickey Mouse in Disneyland’ moment. So the next time I see the lovely pics of tinterweb friends and influencers on social media, I’ll remember my great moment making our irrigation system. Sometimes it’s just the little things.
Nature had an idea when it decided that it should prepare me for getting older. It made me start receding at 18. Even younger maybe. In fact my jesting mind allows my memory to believe that I looked like Phil Mitchell as a 3 year old.
Nature prepared me well. I became not at all bothered about losing my hair. I embraced it. On a practical level I have saved thousands of pounds on the barbers and my short morning grooming routine meant I had more time for a cuppa and a couple of ciggies while watching Big Breakfast before running for the bus to get to work.
So, at 45 I am now totally accepting of the ageing process. The morning groom has changed and, in a cruel twist laid on by nature, I do have to deal with hair now. It’s just that this hair grows from my nostrils and out of my ears. I first realised that these hairs were noticeable to others when I got a nose hair strimmer for father’s day a few years ago. It made a change from socks, I suppose.
Today our stuff arrived on pallets from the UK. Luckily the builders were on hand to help lift everything off of the lorry with us. One of them, Thiago, commented on all of the gym equipment. I replied that I am a Personal Trainer and I aim to continue here in Portugal.
“Ah ha!” He exclaimed as he looked me up and down. “I thought you looked good.”
My face made that weird look that it always does when I’ve been complimented but trying to play it down as I also sucked my belly in a bit more (the fresh bread is too nice here) before he went on to continue his comment…
“…for your age.”
For my age. What does that even mean? Do I look good or not?!! He doesn’t know my age!
If he thinks I’m 65 then I probably do look pretty good for my age.
Another thing came in the pallets today. A mirror. I’ve enjoyed not having a mirror in the house. I even had to use my phone camera to look at when it came to shaving my follically challenged head. Other than that I’ve not felt the need to check myself out all that much. I was looking at myself in the reflection of a cafe the other day to find a couple weirded out by some bald bloke giving them a blue steel look. But now I have a full length mirror in the bathroom and my gym stuff I’m sure to be doing the thorax pose daily like I’m an extra on Pumping Iron.
I haven’t lifted anything heavy for months now and I can feel that my body is ready to take on a deadlift or two. Despite all the wonderful bread that keeps finding its way into my mouth I have been sticking to a nutrition plan of sorts. Decades of calorie counting has ensured that I don’t need to sit and work out what every meal adds up to as I can calculate it in my head simply enough and I know I stay within my weight maintenance limits. It means that the jeans I packed last October and arrived today still fit me.
But my joints and muscles have suffered. They’ve not been working as they’re used to. My gym equipment couldn’t come soon enough.
And it won’t be long until some unwitting couple sat by a cafe window will see me strut towards them, pouting and flexing, and say “He looks good….for his age.”
Someone call the fire brigade, this guy is hot! (For his age)
Some books have chapters that are just a page or two long. Others can be twelve or more. But generally, with the more contemporary styles, we see chapters at around five pages. This advice is what many novice writers are given as a guide and it equates to about 5-6 thousand words.
I like that there are no set rules to the size of a chapter in a book. I’m not good with rules. Of course, I’m not a total anarchist. I follow most rules. I would, for example, respectfully follow the rule that I had to wear a gym shirt belonging to the commercial gym that I trained at even though I didn’t work for them. A silly rule, I thought, but I towed the line.
I stick to speed limits on the road, I pay my bills on time and I push the toothpaste out from the bottom of the tube. Ok. That last one is my wife’s rule and it’s an important one.
And then there’s the GNR. That is the name of the Portuguese police. If they pull you over in the car or stop you in the street you must have your documents on hand to prove that you are able to be in the country. They can be quite intimidating. Their uniform is much more military and their role isn’t the same as the police in the UK. You won’t see the GNR dancing at a street parade or being questioned by a youtuber calling themselves an ‘auditor’. If they want to see my documents, it is not the time for me to start questioning their rules. I know the punishment for questioning where I squeeze the tube of toothpaste from, I dread to think of what the consequences are for arguing with the GNR.
But if I were to write a book about my journey over the past year, I would make the chapters short, snappy and to the point. That would be my rule. The law, in fact. For example, if I were writing the chapter on my current situation, it would read something like…
“The builders came, renovated the guest house and left.”
There. Chapter done. Move on. Otherwise it becomes boring and tedious.
But this chapter is never ending, it seems. I’d like it to be over so that I can continue with my story. The novel ‘The Passenger’ has a chapter that weighs in at a mighty 62 pages. This arrives at chapter 5 in the book.
Maybe my life is a chapter 5. Sure, I feel like a passenger as I eagerly wait to begin renting out the guest house and promoting my fitness events. This anxiety compounded in the knowledge that I need to start making an income very soon. Chapter 5 has become extremely costly.
If this story continues similarly to the careful planning that was undertaken long before pen was put to paper, then I know that this chapter isn’t forever. It’s a means to an end. Every story must knit together to make any sense. Perhaps a lengthy chapter is often a middle bit that is necessary in creating the beginning, middle and the end. It is a summary of how the story began and the direction in which it will end. Therefore, my chapter 5 must be a vital component in the whole telling of the story.
But I’m becoming impatient.
My one rule break right now would be to create a story with one page chapters. At least to get to the exciting bits. I have so much to be grateful for and my blogs, had they acted as chapters of a book, kind of tell the story of my journey to my readers so far. But this chapter seems different. This is the part of the story that either makes or breaks the leading character.
Chapter 5 is a long road which has to be accepted as part of the journey (or story) for a complete ending to be written. Without chapter 5, we wouldn’t know the ending. So what’s the point in any journey (or story) if we can’t endure a chapter 5?
I have met many people on their own personal journeys who seem to call on me when they get to their very own chapter 5. They feel a bit stuck. Like, they know where they wanna be but can’t find a way out to the other side. And as I tell them, exactly as I tell myself, it is quite normal. Sometimes we all feel like a passenger when we want to be the one in control. Chapter 5, as long assed as it might be, leads only to a new chapter as long as we keep on reading. And we keep reading because we know the ending can be good. Not just good but life changing.
But being the main character feels different from the observer looking on. It’s like when we scream at the TV screen to the character being chased in a horror movie. We give them sensible, logical answers for the character to escape. But the character, in their emotional state, never thinks straight. Decisions solely based on emotion can sometimes lead to poor judgement. As Alfred Adler said, “Follow your heart, but take your brain with you.”
Now is a good time to remember that quote as I drudge through chapter 5.
If you feel like you’re stuck in chapter 5, ask yourself how you can develop your story for the next chapter. If you can create a positive narrative to it, the ending of your story could be a real page turner with a great ending. You’re the author. Chapter 5 doesn’t have to last forever.
“The gem cannot be polished without friction, nor man be perfected without trials.” Confucius.
It doesn’t matter what passions we develop in life, there will be moments when we lose our focus. At the moment I am learning a language. My day to day conversational speaking is becoming more advanced and my learning apps are telling me that I am ready for the next level, but I have recently hit a wall. Then I remembered my own advice. It’s what I tell my trainees.
Sometimes we need to rediscover the reasons why we wanted to take on a particular challenge in the first place.
In the past week or so I have become overawed by the task in hand. I felt daunted by the long, in-depth skills needed to speak to Portuguese builders, bank and VISA staff or my kid’s teachers. Imagine the robot or a computer with steam coming from it. That felt like my brain. It all became too much.
So I put on YouTube and literally typed in ‘basic greetings in Portuguese’. I watched short fun clips of people telling me how to say and pronounce ‘bom dia’ and slowly counting to 20 in Portuguese. I knew it. I knew it well. This is all the stuff I listened to in late 2022. It felt good.
Now let’s take a look at your fitness journey.
The timing of this post is not coincidental. Traditionally, the gym membership numbers go up in January and we see more runners in parks and on pavements during this time too. But by early March, in my experience, people are beginning to doubt themselves and the goals that they’ve set themselves.
The issue we have is that we tend to want everything now. I want to be fluent in Portuguese, we want to stream the latest movie or series, we want to turn on 24/7 news channels for the latest headlines, we want to order a convenience meal at the tap of a button, we want to post our holiday selfie the moment we take it and we want to lose body weight today. And because things don’t always happen instantly we become frustrated by the process.
But this isn’t advice just for the new year resolutioner. It doesn’t matter when you began your fitness journey. When the wall hits, it hits.
I spoke earlier about taking my language learning back to basics. I focussed on something that I knew that I could do. I simplified the process and made each session shorter. I made sure that I watched fun clips and not just somebody sitting at a desk with boring graphics. In a previous post I said that I am going to attempt to be a beginner every day. That is because I want to develop an attitude where nothing should be seen as ‘easy’. I learnt Portuguese numbers a long time ago, but it is only this morning that I mastered the finer details of how to say them. Knowing the words is one thing, but saying them in an accent that is understood is another.
When we have gone to the gym for a while it is normal to attempt a heavier lift or a longer, enduring set or session than the previous day. It is, after all, what we are told is progression. Anything else would be classed as failure or a waste of time. But as a personal trainer with hundreds of successful training programmes I can tell you that this is nonsense. Some of it anyway.
Almost every one of my training programmes has included periods of regression. And these don’t have to be written in blood. If a trainee is telling me that they have hit a wall, meaning either physical or mental fatigue, then I will factor in a period of regression straight away.
Regression isn’t designed to be ‘easy’. It still requires commitment, but it is different to the usual routine. In regards to a fitness goal, this could mean using more machines in the gym instead of free weights, going for a walk instead of lifting, running, or an intense fitness class. If you still choose to lift, you could work at a 50% weight of a one rep max instead of your programmed 80%. Or if you still want to join in the fitness class but choose to go at a less intense pace, then inform the instructor at the beginning. If they don’t understand the concept then they shouldn’t be instructing a fitness class.
Being committed to anything shouldn’t have to mean devoting every bit of your time and energy into it. This can create resentment. And I mean anything. Your partner, children, friends, work or your gym goals. Give something back to yourself now and again.
And when you do, you might find that you become a better partner, a better parent, a better friend, a better worker and a better trainer.
Never Give Up PT 