This picture was of me when I was 14 years old. I’m pretty sure I have 110lbs on the bar, my form was terrible, and lifting these weights was a struggle. I bought this rickety old bench and barbell from a garage sale down the street, and before I had plates for it, I’d use bricks and cinder blocks from behind my shed.
So what, right? What’s my point.
Everyone is looking for the magic these days: the secret workout, the A-list secret, or some other fitness angle. I was starting at square one, and the only thing that matters was the beginning. I either committed to getting in shape, or I didn’t. If I waited around for my parents to drop $500-$1000 on a sweet home gym, this would be a picture of me sitting on the couch playing video games. Every time I hear a person complain about the tools s/he has access to, I think of times like these.
Secondly, what drove me to lift bricks on my deck in a torn pair of boxer shorts between sprints in my football cleats was the pain: the pain of being pushed around, the pain of feeling weak, the pain of being scared, and the pain of feeling like a nobody. The root of those feelings is a story for another day. My point is that I was willing to do the hard work in less than ideal circumstances because the pain of being who I was at the time overcame my fear of failure and need for comfort.
So where are you at right now? Every excuse you have is a bullshit one, even if you can argue its legitimacy. The truth is that you are paralyzed by your current state of ‘comfort’ and fear of failure. You self-sabotage yourself because if you try and it doesn’t work out, the failed result is proof that you are every shitty thing that you keep telling yourself you are. If you never try, you can avoid looking in the mirror.
So what’s it going to take? A survived heart attack? Type 2 diabetes? Hitting 300lbs on the scale? Whatever you have access to, it’s enough. Whatever small changes you can make, it matters. Get out and walk. Do five push-ups. See how long you can wall-sit. You don’t want to do these things because you think ‘what’s the point? What are five push-ups going to do for me? I’m in terrible shape.’
You never know what your spark is going to look like- but the whole concept of a spark is a seemingly incidental reaction that starts an uncontrollable burning flame. Stop waiting for perfect, it’s never coming, and ‘starting tomorrow’ is for those committed to failure.