Sloth Demon 2

It Hates Fun

Now that I have a bodacious home gym, I must be a total gym rat. Like a rat that eats whey, does pullups with its tail, and turns the other rats’ heads with his toned physique. There’s just no way I’m not exercising all the time, right?

But the sloth demon is cunning. It acknowledges my enthusiasm to hang in the gym, and then it uses my enthusiasm against me. “You should do the best possible workout!” it says. “You’re so energetic and motivated, you’d be crazy not to plan rigorous, professional-grade routines and execute them perfectly every day.”

And I’m like yeah! So I craft a grueling regimen, organize everything in a spreadsheet, and set a daily schedule. I start wondering if I can work out several times a day. I simultaneously commit to nutrition improvements. I might even set specific weight or strength goals. Throughout the whole process, which takes many hours, I feel more energetic than ever. No sloth demon in sight!

Energetically not exercising

Of course, I don’t work out that day.

I usually start the next day and keep at it for a week. The sloth demon’s patient. It knows that after a week of vigorous effort, I’m going to slip just a little.

My body isn’t used to that much exercise, so I take a recovery day or two. When I start feeling guilty about not toughing it out, I redouble my efforts, doing more than my original plan called for. You see where this is headed.

I get burned out. Stressed. Obsessed with goals and stats. The regimen becomes a terrible chore, I dread visiting the bodacious gym, and I fall into slothful despair while the demon lolls around like a slug, laughing at my torpor.

I fall into this trap with exercise, diets, writing, self-education plans, you name it. I’m reminded of people who find joy in a craft or hobby, and as soon as they get pretty good at it, someone says, “You should sell that on Etsy,” so they open an Etsy store and in no time at all, that joyful craft or hobby has become a total drag.

A little discipline and intention is good for me. Too much, though, and I start doing a thing for the discipline/intention, instead of for the inherent goodness of the thing.

Here’s my new approach to exercise: I go into my totally sweet gym unprepared. No plan aside from being there. No goals, no requirements. I put some music on, or stream a show I can basically ignore, and once I have that ambient noise, I might as well do something for the next hour.

My recent workouts are built entirely around the “showing up” part. Once I’m there, any choice is good. The simpler the better. Some mornings, all I do is walk on the treadmill. Nice and easy. Or maybe it’s yoga, or pushups, or lots of different squats. The important part is being there and treating it all like play.

It reminds me of “exercise” in childhood. My physical activity was simply stuff I enjoyed, like biking to a friend’s house, skateboarding to the corner store for the latest issue of Metal Edge, or sledding on a snowy hill for hours and hours. I didn’t have some goal of Three Dozen Sled Runs, because if I had to be out there with wet socks for that long, I would have stayed home and watched TV (with the sloth demon).

All of which is to say I’m more likely to hit the gym if it’s awesome and fun, and any benefits I accrue will be bonuses. The whole deal gets me energized. The sloth demon hates it.