Here’s the thing: I’m willing to bet that most people are spending their days engaging with things that exist only in their heads. Worries about the future, regrets about the past, a random memory about the time so and so said such and such. But guess what? Those aren’t real things. Your thoughts are nonsense. They are mere artifacts of the organ that sits in your skull. Even your sense of self, of a ME that exists as a little humanoid operating the meat puppet suit, is mostly an illusion.
One philosophy I try to live my life by is “tend to the part of the garden you can see.” (Another much more carnivorous motto I like is “embrace the suck.”) That not only means I don’t pay much attention to things far outside of my immediate life, but it also means that I try not to overly engage with those things that I can’t see because, well, they don’t exist. You know, like thoughts. To get a sense of what is real, I suggest moving out of your head and moving into your body. The body is the realm of the sensory. Of the real! And there is no better way to get into your body than by doing physically demanding things. Run a long distance. Or sprint a short distance! Pick up a very heavy thing (with perfect form, obviously). Climb up a hillside.
Modern life, with all its comforts, has made us soft. And this softness means that most of us have never really experienced what our bodies are capable of and, by extension, what our limits are. If you’ve run a 5k, go run a 10k. If you’ve run a 10k, go run a half marathon. If you’ve run a half marathon, go run a full marathon. If you’ve run a marathon, go run an ultra (the author said to himself).
And hard things don’t need to take a long time. Don’t like running? Hop on a stationary bike and bust out a Tabata: 20 seconds as hard as you can possibly go followed by 10 seconds of rest for a total of 4 minutes. Do this once or twice or three times. You may not have time for a 2 hour run, but you certainly have time for a Tabata. (This highlights a tenet of training: the shorter you go, the harder it should be.)
Doing hard things not only puts you in your body (and maybe even in a flow state), but it also shows you what actual difficulty really is, and that makes everything you normally encounter in life seem much, much easier.
Not only that, but by routinely getting after it teaches you how to have discipline. It’s not always fun to go do something physically difficult and you don’t always feel like it, and this is where motivation fails you. If you only did things when you were motivated to do them, you’d likely leave a lot on the table.
But if you can develop true discipline, the kind that says, “Hey, I know you don’t feel like deadlifting today, but guess what? Nobody cares. Go do it,” you’ll develop into the kind of person who does hard things, no matter the time of day and no matter what it requires. Not just in the gym or on the track or whatever, but also in life. By developing this kind of discipline, you discover an extra gear that you can tap into when your back is against the wall.
In my own life as a writer for hire, this mindset helped me realize that while I may never be the best writer in the world, I can definitely outwork everyone else. “Oh, you wrote two movies last year? I’m going to write four.” (And let’s be honest: when you learn to enjoy deadlifting 2x bodyweight, the notion that writing is difficult becomes a joke. When you know what real difficulty is, you know what real difficulty is not.)
And the kind of person who can do that is a potent person. Too cold for a run? Doesn’t matter. Go run. Too hot for a run? Doesn’t matter. Go run. Raining? Windy? It’s your birthday? Doesn’t. Matter. Go for a run. When you stop making excuses and start committing to a life of discipline, you begin living according to a set of values, and a life where your actions align with your values is a very good life. (And if you think I’m kidding about all the excuses people make, next time you don’t feel like a run, take a voice memo of your excuses and listen to it. You’ll likely feel disgust at this weakness on display.)
And if you frame these difficult things as something you GET TO DO versus something you HAVE TO DO, you’ll never miss a session, because one day you won’t be able to go for a run. That day is far too soon.
Finally, I’m not saying that a life of the mind is not a worthwhile life. My job is literally making stuff up with a keyboard. But a life occupied by thoughts is not a life that is engaging in the full spectrum of human existence. And while it feels good to finish a script in the way I envisioned it, it doesn’t tell me where my limits are in the same way that the final 10k of a marathon or heavy gym session does. So I encourage you to see where your limits are. You’ll likely realize that they’re much further out on the horizon than you might have thought.