Warning: I wasn’t sure the best way to communicate my point here (or title this post) without sounding like a p*ussy [sic] self-improvement blogger, but here goes:
About 3 months ago I was cooking breakfast at my place in Koh Tao, Thailand. I had 3 eggs frying in the pan in front of me, my bacon off the stove, cooling.
I was working the spatula, admiring my food. In that tiny moment, I felt a supreme sense of happiness and satisfaction. I was high on life just by cooking breakfast.
I stood there for a second, feeling wonderfully weird and I smiled. I turned to my friend Clay, and said, “I’m happy, man.”
Clay looked at me like I was crazy and I went back to my food.
That night I went to the gym – I was about 2 weeks away from completing a workout program designed by Clay.
In the gym, I found a zone of targeted anger. I killed my routine and then set off up a hill outside our apartment for my post-workout incline walk.
I got to the point in the walk where the streetlights end and it gets dark. In the bushes to the left I heard a rustling and my hair stood up. I was startled and I expected to see a dog dart out at me.
But then the oddest thing happened to me. I suddenly said to myself, and I’m not kidding you…”I’m the king in this jungle, bring it on.” And I began to sprint. I ran up the hill, adrenaline pumping through my body, and (still not kidding) I started grunting and saying, “Yeah, get it, yeah mother f*cker.”
I got back down the hill, covered in sweat, enthusiastic but exhausted. I felt like an ANIMAL (still serious) for the first time in my life.
Clay looked at me, and said, “Jesus dude. What’s going on?”
It was pure bliss. We went to a restaurant, I ate my meat and vegetables and I rode the high to bed that night, resting deeply.
I woke up in the morning with that same sense of satisfaction and carried it through the day.
But that night was different because it was the alloted time in the diet plan for letting myself indulge in alcohol.
The first beer that hit my lips didn’t taste quite right. The second, which is usually the best, didn’t go down smooth. I felt ‘off’ and decided to hold back.
I didn’t want to drink.
The next morning I woke up with a minor headache and bit bloated. Just 2 glasses of beer the previous night had derailed my morning.
The next week, my night for indulgence came and passed. I forgot about it. While in the previous weeks I’d wait patiently and think about the release time constantly, this week, I didn’t even care.
The point: you reach a certain tipping point in your life where you’ll never look back. And the ‘never look back’ part is important. You simply wont care enough to ‘look back’.
If you push yourself through perceived limits, you’ll reach a point where it doesn’t matter that you’re not eating pizza anymore. It doesn’t matter that you’ve got to exercise for 30 minutes today. You’ll not care that you have to put in a solid 15 hours on your business. You’ll not care that you didn’t have a beer and get buzzed tonight.
You’ll need (not just want) to. You’ll feel depressed and bad if you don’t.
It’s simply not important because you’ve reached a cutoff point where it feels so good to be doing what you’re doing, that stopping really isn’t an option.
Your baseline reality will be different. It’s like resting heart rate. Say your heart rate when sitting and relaxing is 65 beats per minute. Then you start an exercise program and 3 months later your resting heart rate has fallen to 58 BPM. Your baseline has changed.
Real-life example: 30 minutes of exercise will become the equivalent of an ‘off-day’ before you started working out. There are infinite permutations of this in every realm of life.
I reached that moment where my baseline shifted. I saw the other-side. If there’s something you REALLY want, know that by sticking it out through the down-times, you’ll come out the other-side a truly different person. Your reality will shift.
This might not be revolutionary, but I’m new to this line of thought. Let me know what you think or if you’ve ever experienced anything similar.