In 2000, I landed my 'dream job': managing a fitness equipment store. After years of working from 6am-10pm, driving through all weather conditions, shuttling members of the 'Team' around like a parent, here was my chance. I could be IN the fitness industry from 9-5, making an actual salary, and still helping people. All I had to do was learn to sell stuff. How hard could THAT be?
I found out quickly. No matter how many books I read, or speakers I attended, I never once made my sales quota for the month. Two years in, I could vomit data about treadmills to anyone who came into the store…but I couldn't tell a story, and so couldn't convince anyone to buy. This is because I don't know any stories about elliptical trainers. Somewhere, I'm sure there IS a good story or two that doesn't involve a hilarious mishap…but I've never heard it.
The irony didn't strike me for years afterward: at 9am, I'd dutifully dust off the machines, and spend the next eight hours extolling their virtues to anyone who came through the door. I'd tell them that a treadmill that cost $3000 was better value because it would outlast all the miles they'd be sure to put on it. I'd push the $4000 home gym because it had more workout options…just follow the chart printed on the weight stack over here, see? Mindless. Simple. You can't help but exercise on this baby! This exercise bike will even track the miniscule amount of calories you'll burn on it!
At 5pm, though, I'd head through the back doors to the parking lot. There, an athlete would wait for his personal training session. We'd push sleds, sprint, swing plates, carry heavy stuff…but not use any of the equipment from the store. Not once. Not even a little pair of spring collars.
It's probably obvious by now: I couldn't sell the stuff because I didn't believe in it.
I don't like treadmills. That's no secret. I own two giants, worth nearly $7000 each, and I treat them like rented mules. I resent their very necessity. I DO, however, like barbells and boxes and pullup bars, and I have them at home. So why, then, is it so hard to train when I'm home?
Other folks, facing this problem, will blame themself: I have no willpower. I'm too easily distracted. There's just so much to do here! I'm too comfy to get out of my pajamas right now…. but these aren't the problems. They're just the symptoms.
Creationist or evolutionist, anthrophile or agnostic, you've got a thing for caves. Caves, for our species, have pulled us out of a scrape or two. They're shelter, they're warmth…they're safety. They're for hunkering down and waiting. They're reserved exclusively for flight, not fight.
What is a home, then, but an extension of the cave with heavy influences by Martha Stewart? It's for resting. Hiding. Recovering from out there. That front door is just one more threshold between you and The Wolf.
And where do most folks put their new workout gear? In their bedroom, or in the basement – out of sight. Out of mind. And in the places reserved for rest.
This is called 'Cognitive Dissonance': when your actions disagree with your core belief system, it creates anxiety. Cognitive dissonance is why people do things that sometimes aren't logical. It's also why hypnosis can help you quit smoking, IF you believe that smoking is wrong, and you're already trying to quit. Unfortunately, it can sabotage your efforts to exercise at home.
Selling treadmills for two years, I can't say who was still using their equipment after January 31 with any kind of science to back me up. My empirical observation, though – and thousands of local "For Sale" ads – hint that the "expensive clothesline" joke rings true.
It's not the phone. It's not Y&R. Your physiology demands, at this time of year, that you go outside to hunt and gather. It thinks you're ready to shut down for the winter – don't give it the option. Commit to something outside the home. "Owning Your Fitness" really means recognizing the root of undermining bad habits, and developing positive ones.