Sometimes it’s important to be honest with yourself. Do you really want to pursue that fitness goal, or are you feeling pressured into it? Do you really have the time for this new exercise program, or will you ditch it as soon as life gets busy? But sometimes, honesty is overrated. I lie to myself in the gym all the time, and maybe you should, too.
To be clear, there is a time and a place for lying. Honesty is good when it comes to making long-term plans. But in the middle of a workout, your very reasonable, realistic, well-thought-out plans come up against your silly little brain. And your silly little brain may want to talk itself out of having to do any work whatsoever. So here are some lies that can help you approach a tough workout without dreading it or chickening out.
It’s not that much work
I like it when my squats are programmed in sets of three. Or, better yet, singles. Just let me max out! But supposedly doing lighter weight for volume is “good for me,” even though it is boring as hell.
So when my squats last week were supposed to be three sets of 10, I told myself “It’s just five doubles.” Two reps, five times. I’d do two squats and count “one,” then two more and count “two,” and so on until I hit five. You see, five is less than 10, so it’s half as much work. Mentally, anyway.
Runners, I know you do something like this, too. You’re on a five-mile run, and your watch tells you you’ve just finished the second mile. A normal person would say you’re “almost halfway,” but what do they know? In fact, two miles is more than halfway to three. And when you get to three, you’ll be at that corner where you turn left and go down the road by the lake. And by the time you get to the end of that road you’ll only have one mile to go, which is basically just a cooldown. So in reality you are more than halfway done, right? Right. Exactly. Yes, this is how numbers work.
I love this
I once had a coach who would ask the team how we were doing after a tough part of the workout, and the answer she expected was a chorus of “SUPER GREAT AND GETTING BETTER!”
It was cheesy, but it worked. Just because you’re suffering doesn’t mean you have to admit you’re suffering. Because you are also doing just fine. Feeling like you need to catch your breath and take a sip of water is normal and expected after a hard part of the workout. You will enjoy your water break and you will be ready for the next hard thing, and the next, and the next.
You can do this on your own, of course. Maybe you’re lifting, and your least favorite exercise is up next. Just pretend it’s your favorite. Find something to like about it. Focus on that.
Or let’s say I’m running, and I get to a hill. Hills suck, of course. I live in a hilly place, so I can’t escape them. But I can lie to myself. Every single hill, I tell myself, “This is what I’m good at; this is my time to shine.” I have a lot of practice with hills, after all! They suck for everybody, but I secretly enjoy them. (I secretly secretly hate them, but shhhh.)
The rest of the workout does not exist
Over the holidays last year, I did a notorious 20-rep squat program. You start with a weight that is challenging—something you could only do for 10 reps—and you simply keep the bar on your back, gasping for air and praying for the sweet release of death, until you have somehow managed to complete 20. It sounds impossible, but then you do it. In the process, it strengthens your mind as much as your legs.
I also, on two occasions now, have done an FTP test. This is a 20-minute race against yourself on a stationary bike, where your score determines the training zones you’ll use in the future. It’s a test that is only accurate if you go for a truly maximum effort. It’s 20 minutes of hell.
In both of these pursuits, there is a critical thing you need to know to get through them: You have to forget about every part of the workout except the one you’re in right now. Minute three is not the time to think about minute 20.
In your third minute of the FTP test, the only thing that should be on your mind is getting to the fourth minute. You cannot put the mental stress of the next 17 minutes on yourself all at once. Each minute belongs to itself.
It’s the same with the squats. You can’t ask yourself, “Can I really do 17 more?” The only question worth asking is, “Can I do one more?”
My friends will want to see this video
If all else fails, appeal to peer pressure. You are a human being, a social animal. You know how to use social media to inspire rather than discourage yourself. Your account is followed by gym buddies you know in real life and by acquaintances from around the world who will double-tap your videos and you’ll double-tap theirs. Or maybe you’ll send a video to your best friend who doesn’t lift but who supports you anyway.
They need to see the video you’ll post after this, right? No way could they be entirely indifferent to whether you finished your workout, or what weight you worked up to. No, they’re on the edge of their seats, ready to cheer for you as soon as they see any evidence at all that you completed whatever the hell you were supposed to do today. So do that workout, take that video, and post it with some kind of clever caption. They’re waiting for it. Promise.
