Finding our own motivation to exercise
Antonia was a new client: exceptionally tall, timid and self-conscious. Over the course of several weeks, I had watched her grow gradually more familiar and comfortable with the hustle and bustle of the gym environment. She had first insisted that we conduct our training entirely from an isolated corner of the floor, but as her confidence grew, she became increasingly open to doing new things.
The gymnasium was uncrowded one afternoon, so we found our way over to the power rack in the corner of the free-weight area. After an expectedly unsteady set of squats, I spoke to her quietly about corrections to her technique.
“One!” announced a bold voice from a neighbouring station.
Costa, a colleague of mine, was training one of his regulars: a young, sculpted woman with a strong build. He continued.
“Two, three, four — come on!”
Antonia and I turned back to resume our work. As I reminded her of how to set herself up, our neighbour was beginning to struggle.
“Five… six!” Costa shouted. “Don’t f— ing give up on me now!”
Antonia glanced at me with a look of alarm.
“Sev— ”
His client slumped forward on the machine, exhausted, with palpable disappointment and shame.
“Oh, you’re f— ing soft!” berated my colleague.
At the completion of another shaky set, Antonia voiced her disapproval and dismay at Costa’s approach. “I would have slapped him across the face!”
I assured her that his clients actually liked to be sworn at, that they were motivated by the verbal abuse and the fear of humiliation.
Costa was from the Old School. If you didn’t succeed, you didn’t want it enough. If you weren’t suffering, you were wasting your time. No pain, no gain. Training was not a cultivation; it was a trial. The strong triumphed, and the weak succumbed. And his persona as a tough-guy made him an immensely popular trainer.
Superficially, I might have been thought to occupy the other end of the spectrum. I was encouraging, infinitely patient, and often accommodating. Those athletes who worked with me long enough, however, learnt that I was as demanding as any trainer, and far more so than most. Costa himself once related, “When I first met you, I thought you were one of those w— ky, new-age, Pepsi Max trainers, but it turns out you’re really old-school!”
Our styles and approaches may have been very different, but what Costa and I had in common was an understanding that physical change requires hard work — that we are the product of our behaviours and our environment.
The world in which we live is entirely unnatural: activity is redundant, hard physical labour unnecessary, and food in abundance. We are mechanised, automated, indolent, and indulgent. Indeed, our modern lifestyles have deprived us of thousands of hours of activity, which we would otherwise be doing out of necessity. The majority of us are consequently overweight and lacking in even the most basic level of physical conditioning.
When we do take steps to correct this imbalance, so many of us become frustrated by the gradualness of our progress, or disillusioned by the obstacles we inevitably face along the way. These factors contribute to our inconstancy and inconsistency. And predictably, research demonstrates that psychological health plays an important role in exercise adherence.
In the United States and Canada, gymnasium retention is ostensibly only two thirds per year. According to the White Report, a study of membership retention and attrition in the United Kingdom (2009–2012), almost half of all members discontinue before reaching their second year, and fewer than a quarter continue onto their third. Findings published in the Australian Fitness Industry Retention Report (2017) illustrate a similar picture. Whilst these studies did not account for movement between different gymnasium facilities, or transition from the gymnasium to alternative forms of activity, the general pattern is clear, and discouraging.
Before pursuing any new training goal, we should begin, therefore, with a realistic assessment of what we have to do to reach it, and decide whether indeed we are truly willing to do what is required. The greater the goal, the greater the time, effort and sacrifice we should expect to make. Small, cumulative goals are easier to manage and reach. And it is generally prudent to moderate our expectations. It is worth reminding ourselves that most of us have very devotedly neglected our bodies for years, if not decades. We should expect a comparable investment to reverse the damage that we have done.
To put one common goal into perspective, in order to burn just one kilogram (2.2 pounds) of body fat, the average person would need to cycle at 24 kilometres (15 miles) per hour for over 24 hours! That is assuming perfect fat metabolism and dietary energy balance. For comparison, even if we had gained that kilogram over the course of a month — a very rapid rate of weight gain — our over-consumption would amount to the equivalent of just a single 56-gram (2 ounce) bag of potato chips per day.
It is tempting to look for a system, some form of attire or apparatus, or a dietary supplement that will expedite our results and compensate for our apathy, inconsistency, and sloth. And there will forever be opportunists willing to sell that fantasy to us. But it will be just that. There are no shortcuts to training success. Anyone who tells you otherwise is trying to sell you something.
Everyone who has ever achieved success in their training has had to work hard, to make sacrifices, to be disciplined and consistent. Everyone has struggled with highs and lows. Change takes time: time to train and recover, to remodel our behaviours, to reform our attitudes, and perhaps above all, to develop a growth mindset characterised by patience and mental fortitude. Each of these elements is an integral and necessary part of the process.
Exercise need not be painful, but if it is to be productive, it must be challenging, taxing, and uncomfortable. These are the signs that we are testing the limits of our existing capabilities, and they apply to our physical, mental, and emotional states. If we feel like we are doing nothing, we probably are.
Moreover, our efforts must be consistent and protracted.
The challenge, therefore, is to identify our motivations, both intrinsic and extrinsic. Do we enjoy working alone, in a large group, or with a small intimate group? Do we prefer being indoors or out? Are we interested in theory and technical mastery, or would we prefer to keep things simple? Do we thrive on adversity, or would we like to be comfortable? Are we motivated by pride or accolades? Would we respond well to a coach, a mentor — or perhaps an overbearing drill sergeant?
As Antonia and I concluded our training session, Costa was offering some final words of encouragement to his client in the background.
“If you pull this sh— t tomorrow, that will be the last session we ever have!”