Motivating yourself to exercise isn’t always easy. When you’ve been at school or work for over 6 – 8 hours, the last thing you probably want to do is go for a run, walk or lift some weights.
But what if a horde of zombies was chasing after you? Would that motivate you to start running?
The latest craze in exercise isn’t Zumba, it’s Zombies, run!
Adrian Hon and Naomi Alderman created and launched the iPhone exercise application, Zombies, Run!, earlier this year.
How it works is pretty straight forward – you pop your head phones in, press play and you hear instructions in between your usual running track playlist telling you to collect supplies, such as medicines and batteries, as your chased by zombies.
Every time you go for a run a story unfolds.
In addition, the application records your distance, time, pace and calories burned of each run.
The inspiration for Zombies, run! came when Naomi was taking part in an online running training group and she was asked the question, “Why do you want to run?” One participant in the group responded with “to outrun the zombie horde” and the idea was born.
Naomi states –
“We want to know that if things go bad we’d be able to rely on our bodies to get us through and keep us safe. And it’s cool to imagine yourself in an action movie – I dorkily do that all the time when I’m on the treadmill”
Zombies, run! may not be for everyone, but you have to hand it to the creators of this application, it’s a highly original idea!
Some people may think that the idea of being chased by zombies is too far-fetched and hard to imagine. But I beg to differ. Just look around you. Have you ever noticed that many people seem to be a little zombified these days? Vacant looks on their faces? There are zombies everywhere.
So if the gym or running bores the pants off you or you simply need to spice up your exercise program, then consider trying Zombies, run!
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The other day, I was getting my haircut when my hairdresser told me something her 15-year-old son had said. His words took her completely by surprise. He said:
“Mum, I need to try harder this year.”
I hear those words a lot. Try harder.
I hear them from students who want to do better at school and from teachers who are trying to motivate students (“You need to try harder”).
But what does it actually mean to “try harder”?
The problem is that this advice is too vague and abstract.
If you don’t have a clear picture of what ‘trying harder’ looks like, you’re in dangerous territory because you’re attempting to motivate yourself towards an abstraction.
In the book Tiny Habits, Professor BJ Fogg explains the problems associated with motivating yourself to achieve a vague goal. He writes:
“You’ve probably seen a well-meaning public-health poster in the doctor’s office that shows lots of colourful vegetables with the headline: EAT THE RAINBOW!
At first glance, you think: Yes, I need to eat better food. But then you’re not sure what practical steps to take. How much green and how much red? That means salad and apples, right? It can’t mean mint ice-cream and red licorice, can it? You are motivated to “eat the rainbow,” but maybe you don’t know how. You feel frustrated and end up being a little hard on yourself.”
I didn’t want my hairdresser’s son to feel frustrated and annoyed with himself. He clearly had good intentions.
I asked my hairdresser, “What does trying harder look like for your son? If he’s trying harder, what is he doing?”
She said she wasn’t sure. So, I kept asking questions.
“Does it look like him sitting down and testing himself with flashcards before a test? Taking notes in class? Listening to the teacher instead of chatting with his mates?”
The answer was clear. She said, “Listening to the teacher! He needs to start listening to his teachers.”
I also mentioned that it would help if he learnt his teachers’ names (you’d be surprised how many teachers tell me their students don’t know their names).
Remembering a teacher’s name, staying focused on what they have to say, resisting distractions, taking notes and reading your textbook may sound easy, but these are skills that require continuous practice.
If you’re not used to doing them, they can feel hard.
Even with years of practice under my belt, understanding new ideas still feels hard. These days, reading feels like weightlifting for my mind!
After getting my haircut, for the next 24 hours, I kept thinking about those words “try harder”.
Something was bugging me about it because I felt it wasn’t helpful to tell yourself to “try harder”. . . and then, like a bolt of lightning, the answer hit me: my hairdresser’s son doesn’t need to try harder. He needs to focus on doing a few specific hard things.
By ‘specific hard things’, I mean concrete behaviours he can do right now (or at a specific point in time) to improve his understanding of his school subjects.
For example, if he wanted to start a home study routine, here are some concrete behaviours I’d recommend he try:
These are just a few behaviours that come to mind when I think about “trying harder” with your studies.
Doing these concrete behaviours just once won’t make you go from good to great. But you’ll be surprised by how much meaningful progress you can make in a single, effective study session.
We live in a world where comfort and convenience are increasingly normalised. We expect things, including learning, to be easy.
You don’t have to cook (thank you Uber Eats).
You don’t have to move (thank you car).
You don’t have to experience boredom (thank you social media and Netflix).
You don’t even have to use your brain anymore (thank you ChatGPT and Claude).
By outsourcing tasks that require physical and cognitive effort, we may save time, but there are hidden costs.
People are losing their skills, destroying their health, and atrophying their brains, all while being flooded with unhealthy levels of dopamine. I’d even go as far as saying that people are losing their lives and what it means to be human.
In every moment, we have a choice: we can do the easy thing that gives us a quick dopamine hit, or we can do the hard thing that gives us a slow and healthy release of dopamine.
When you wake up, you can scroll on your phone or do some physical activity.
At the end of the day, you can order takeaway that is engineered to light up the reward pathways in your brain, or you can prepare a healthy homemade meal.
When you’ve got a spare 30 minutes, you can watch some YouTube or go for a walk outside.
You can use ChatGPT to write your essay, or you can use your brain and build your skills.
You can talk to an AI chatbot and have a friction-free relationship, or you can organise to meet up with a friend.
Every time you choose the hard thing over the easy thing, you build your confidence. You can trust yourself to do hard things and survive them. Over time, as you build your skills, those hard things don’t feel as hard as they once did.
For instance, if the Internet goes down and you’re not dependent on ChatGPT, you know you’ll be okay. You can rely on yourself to think and entertain yourself (thank you brain).
This is why I’m committing to doing hard things this year. I’m challenging myself, and I know I’ll be better for it.
Just to be clear, I’m not talking about self-harm or inflicting extreme pain on myself.
I’m referring to activities that bring up a cringey discomfort and make me think, “Ahhh, I don’t want to do this!”.
These include activities that require sustained focus and/or mental and physical effort, such as writing an article, going for a run, riding my bike to the shops, and meditating.
The simplest way is to ease into doing those hard things. Turn those hard things into tiny habits.
Here is a list of tiny habits for hard things I’m focusing on doing:
Some of these things may not seem like much, but all of these behaviours require mental and physical effort. Remember, there’s a much easier alternative: sitting, tapping, swiping, and scrolling on your phone.
For instance, I don’t need to chop vegetables and cook my meals. I could eat out or order food to my door. This would save me time and effort (cooking my meals can feel like a part-time job).
But I know I would suffer at some point (physically, mentally, and financially).
Chopping vegetables and cooking take effort, but it helps me cultivate calm. When done with a focused mind (not listening to podcasts or talking on the phone), I really enjoy these activities.
If I were to outsource these activities, I’d be going backwards, because I’d most likely lose my valuable cooking skills over time.
Similarly, writing articles like this one feels hard. But hard doesn’t mean bad. It’s satisfying to focus my mind, wrestle with ideas, and write.
Many of us mistakenly believe that an easy life is a better life. But it’s not. A life where you are constantly pursuing pleasure and taking the easy path can lead to anhedonia.
Anhedonia is the inability to experience pleasure in things that were once pleasurable (e.g., a homecooked meal or a sunset). Some people describe it as life in greyscale.
It turns out the more pleasure we pursue, the more pleasure we need and the more pain we experience.
It may sound counterintuitive, but pursuing hard things makes you feel more motivated and more positive about life.
As humans, we want to challenge ourselves. We’re wired for it.
Psychiatrist Dr Anna Lembke encourages us to take on difficult, even painful, activities as a way of “aligning our primitive wiring with our modern ecosystem”. She writes:
“We are survivors. We’re wired for struggle, especially of physical nature. Yet we live in a world in which we’re largely insulated from pain. And not just pain, but also discomfort of any kind. Everything is supplied to us at the touch of a finger. Now we struggle just to get up off the couch. Our modern ecosystem incentivizes inactivity. Inactivity breeds lethargy. Lethargy breeds anxiety and depression. We must fight against this.”
So, forget trying harder. Work out a few hard things you want to do and focus on doing them instead.
But just to be clear – this car wasn’t in bad shape when I first got it. I turned this car into a jalopy through neglect and ignoring basic warning signs.
Whenever I gave my friends a lift in this car, I remember that they always looked visibly uncomfortable. They’d say with a nervous laugh:
“Jane, what’s that strange rattling sound?”
“Why is there a red warning light on your dashboard?”
I wasn’t fussed about the red light or the strange rattling sound.
Somehow, I’d missed the adulting lesson on basic car maintenance.
For many years, I never bothered to get my car serviced. I drove it to the point where it rattled and shook violently, the engine would cut out while driving, and the brakes squealed at a painfully high pitch.
It got to the point where I could no longer ignore these problems, but by then, it was too late. My car was beyond repair and could only be salvaged for scrap metal.
I’m embarrassed to share this, as that’s no way to treat a car that gets you from A to B and uses the Earth’s finite resources. But stay with me because there’s an important point I want to make, and it’s this. . .
When I was younger, I engaged in several unhealthy lifestyle practices. Whilst I never smoked, took drugs, or consumed alcohol, I ate huge amounts of processed junk food (I didn’t know how to cook).
I also frequently sacrificed sleep to pull all-nighters to complete my assignments (I struggled with procrastination).
My body seemed resilient. It appeared capable of handling the shocks. But over time, I started feeling tired and rundown. Still, I kept pushing myself like my old car. The only time I could rest was when I got sick.
These days, everything’s quite different.
I am physically unable to thrash my body around like an old jalopy.
Something as simple as consuming too much salt or sugar can send my brain spiralling out of control.
I was reminded of this a couple of weeks ago when I visited a friend in hospital. Because I was spending a lot of time at the hospital, my usual routines of grocery shopping and cooking from scratch were disrupted.
But then to make matters worse, I was given $80 worth of vouchers to spend at the hospital cafeteria. I thought, “How bad can hospital cafeteria food be?”.
It turns out really bad.
Cheese kranskys (sausages), heaps of salty hot chips, deep-fried chicken, and soft drinks were the main options at this hospital cafeteria.
Unhealthy food seemed completely normalised in this hospital environment. My jaw dropped when I saw a patient order not just one but five cheese kransky sausages!
In this hospital setting, I also started to eat poorly. It was on my third day of eating hot chips from the hospital cafeteria when I noticed that these chips weren’t doing me any favours. I was feeling off my game.
So I decided enough was enough. I gave the remaining hospital food vouchers to a homeless man who was hanging around the cafeteria, desperate for a feed. It was back to home cooked meals for me!
This greasy processed hospital food had a ripple effect on the rest of my life. I slept badly, which impacted my ability to run the next morning (my joints hurt). I felt resistance to using my treadmill desk because everything felt much harder than usual. Since I was moving less, I was more distracted.
I know all this might sound a bit dramatic, especially to those of us who enjoy a few hot chips (e.g., my husband). Given my friend was in a hospital bed and couldn’t walk, I am fully aware of how lucky I am to be able to run in the first place (even with sore joints).
The point I’m trying to make is this . . .
I also know that small decisions, like eating too many hot chips or staying up late, can add up and take their toll on your mind and body. These tiny decisions can have a big impact on the way you feel.
When I was younger, I could eat whatever I wanted and still feel pretty good. Sometimes I’d feel a bit off, but not in a noticeable way.
As Dr Randy J Paterson states in his book How to Be Miserable in Your Twenties:
“In your twenties, some people can do practically anything to their bodies, experience no immediate physical consequences, and feel emotionally more or less well. Random sleep cycle, sedentary lifestyle, lousy diet, 90 percent of the day staring at screen, binge-drinking, isolation, the works. The body doesn’t completely fall apart, and the mind, while not thrilled, hangs on.
Later on, the effect is more immediate. Live exactly the same way at thirty-five, at forty-five, and things don’t go so well. Take a middle-aged car and drive it aggressively down jolting roads, loaded to the max, old oil clogging the engine, and it’s not going to last long. The baseline mood at forty-with no maintenance, no exercise, no dietary adjustment, no stability, and no social life- is misery. ”
Like a car, the human body requires regular basic maintenance. I see this basic maintenance as a collection of small behaviours that leave me feeling calm, grounded, and focused.
Here are a few things I need to do to keep myself running smoothly:
Every now and then, I’ll abandon these behaviours. I’ll have a day where I eat and do whatever I like. I’ll order takeaway, sit on the couch and binge-watch a series until late at night. I usually pay for it the next day, but it also gives me a better appreciation of these healthy practices and what they do for my body and mind.
It’s all about tuning in and noticing how certain things make you feel. For example, when I was in my mid-20s, I noticed every time I ate deep-fried chicken, I experienced sharp stomach pains.
That was like the red warning light on my car dashboard going off in my body. But instead of ignoring it, I paid close attention. Eventually, I decided it wasn’t worth the pain. So I stopped buying greasy deep-fried chicken and eventually went plant-based, which immediately improved my mental and physical health.
There’s no doubt that modern life can be hectic and stressful. When you’re rushing from one thing to another, it’s easy to overlook the basics and ignore the warning signs.
I’m not proud of how I treated my first car, but I learnt from the experience. Now I make sure I get my car serviced regularly. This saves me time, money, and stress in the long run.
Similarly, we need to pay attention to the way in which we look after ourselves. By dedicating time, energy, and attention to the small things that make us feel better, our experience of the present moment becomes richer. As longevity researcher Dan Buettner says, “You can add years to your life and life to your years”.
“Suzuki Swift 1.3 GTi 1990” by RL GNZLZ is licensed under CC BY-SA 2.0. (used in image 1)
“Scrap yard 22l3” by Snowmanradio at English Wikipedia (Original text: snowmanradio) is licensed under CC BY-SA 3.0. (used in image 2)
“KFC Wicked Wings” by avlxyz is licensed under CC BY-SA 2.0. (used in image 5)
On these days, the temptation to procrastinate and distract oneself can be strong.
I recently spent a few days with my family in the countryside, where I enjoyed reading by a crackling fire. But when I found myself back home in my office, I struggled to get back into the swing of things.
I was experiencing a full-blown holiday comedown.
For some context, I had printed out the slides for an upcoming presentation that I needed to practise, but I felt resistance every time I looked at the slides.
My mind screamed, “Nooo! I don’t want to practise!”. Without even thinking, I kept pushing the slides away like a toddler smooshing their vegetables around on their plate.
But at some point, I caught myself in the act. Without berating myself, I managed to turn things around and ease into my practice.
In this blog, I’ll share a couple of simple strategies I use to get a better handle on my procrastination and overcome resistance.
According to Procrastination scholar Tim Pychyl, procrastination isn’t a time management issue. It’s an emotion management issue. If you can get a better handle on your emotions, you’ll have a better handle on procrastination.
Let’s unpack this…
Often, when we procrastinate, it’s because we’re trying to avoid experiencing negative emotions. The task we need to do brings up feelings of discomfort (e.g., boredom, fear, guilt, anxiety, and stress), so we avoid the task to make ourselves feel better.
But avoidance makes no sense when you think about it.
Oliver Burkeman explains the problems associated with avoidance in his book Meditations for Mortals. He writes:
“The more you organise your life around not addressing the things that make you anxious, the more likely they are to develop into serious problems – and even if they don’t, the longer you fail to confront them, the more unhappy time you spend being scared of what might be lurking in the places you don’t want to go. It’s ironic that this is known, in self-help circles, as ‘remaining in your comfort zone’, because there’s nothing comfortable about it. In fact, it entails accepting a constant background tug of discomfort – an undertow of worry that can sometimes feel useful or virtuous, though it isn’t – as the price you pay to avoid a more acute spike of anxiety.”
Dutch Zen Monk Paul Loomans labels the tasks we avoid as ‘gnawing rats’. He says these tasks “eat away at you under the surface”.
Have you noticed that whenever you try to avoid a task, it’s usually still on your mind, using up your precious mental resources?
That’s what Loomans means by the task eating away at you under the surface.
Why does he use the peculiar term ‘gnawing rat’? Looman’s daughter used to have pet rats that would eat loudly under his bed, keeping him awake at night.
Loomans explains that if you can befriend your gnawing rats, you can transform them into white sheep. Just like a white sheep follows you around passively, once you transform a task into a white sheep, it’s a lot easier to make a start.
The question is, how do you transform a ‘gnawing rat’ (a task you are avoiding) into a white sheep?
The key is to approach procrastination from a place of curiosity.
Loomans suggests creating a positive, open relationship with the task you’ve been avoiding. You need to sit with it or visualise the task. Instead of giving yourself a hard time, get curious about why you have such a strained relationship with this task.
Loomans advises:
“… you’re not being asked to immediately do whatever it is that’s gnawing at you. The assignment is only to establish a relationship with it. You let all the various facets sink in and then let them go again.
The rat no longer gnaws at you, and it has settled down. It’s no longer trying to get your attention, but follows quietly behind. It now has white legs and curly fleece – it’s turned into a white sheep.”
I decided to follow Looman’s advice with this presentation I had been avoiding. To begin with, I pulled out my slides and I just sat with them.
I closed my eyes, tuned into my body and asked myself:
“Why am I feeling resistance towards practising this presentation? What’s going on?”
Within 30 seconds, the answer came to me. The resistance came from how I thought I’d feel after doing my speech practice: exhausted and emotionally depleted.
You see, when I practice a presentation, I typically go into turbocharge mode. It’s like I’m delivering the real thing: I gesticulate, project my voice, pace around the room, and rely on my memory and the pictures on my slides to remember the content (I don’t refer to my notes).
All of this takes a lot of mental and physical effort.
So, naturally, when I looked at my slides for this one-hour presentation, I felt flat and heavy.
I equated one hour of presentation practice with having a fried brain by the end.
But then I had a brilliant idea. I thought, “What if this practice session didn’t have to feel like a hard slog? What if it could be fun, light and easy but still effective? What would that look like?”
It immediately occurred to me that I had to shorten my practice session, which brings me to the next strategy . . .
To keep my practice session fun, light and easy, I settled on doing just five minutes of speech practice.
Instead of pacing around my office and practising in turbocharge mode for an hour, I sat myself down with a hot chocolate. I set a timer for five minutes, pulled out a mini whiteboard and started recalling the content (scribbling out and drawing pictures of what I needed to say).
When the timer went off, I checked my notes to see how I went (What did I remember? What did I forget to say?).
Then, I checked in with myself – “How am I feeling after that mini practice session?”. Instead of feeling depleted, I was feeling good! I felt less overwhelmed by this presentation. The resistance had subsided. As Paul Loomans would say, the presentation had transformed from a gnawing rat into a white sheep!
I felt excited, even a little inspired.
I could have easily kept practising for another 10-20 minutes, but I decided to give myself a break to re-energise (I got up and walked on the treadmill for 2 minutes).
This gave me insight into the need to vary the intensity and mode of each study session, depending on my energy levels and what I have planned for the rest of the day. Sometimes it’s good to go into turbocharge mode, but not always.
Not every study/work session has to be hardcore. Work sessions that leave you feeling completely drained by the end can be counterproductive. As Professor BJ Fogg says, “Tiny is mighty”.
Firstly, tiny study sessions are less scary for your brain. Five minutes of speech practice and flashcard practice feels easy. You think, “I can do 5 minutes!”.
In contrast, one hour of study feels scary for your brain, which means you’re more likely to procrastinate.
When you go tiny, it’s also easier to give your full focus to the task at hand. Here’s the thing about focus: focusing your mind takes a lot of your brainpower. And you have a limited supply of brainpower!
As you sit there and study, your brainpower gets depleted. But research shows one way to boost your attentional resources (i.e. your brainpower) is by taking regular breaks. If you study in short focused bursts and then take a break, you can stay refreshed and ensure your study sessions are effective.
But most importantly, tiny study sessions help to create momentum, and they leave you feeling good!
I tend to push myself to the point of exhaustion when I practise my talks. But I can see now that this makes it hard for me to want to practise in the future.
By dedicating just 5–10 minutes to the task and enjoying it, I’m more likely to do another 5 minutes (or more) of practice tomorrow. Doing five minutes of practice every day is infinitely better than doing no practice or cramming a long practice session in the day before.
You’re not going to go from good to great in one tiny study session. But you can make meaningful progress and create the momentum you need to keep going.
So, don’t turn your nose up at five minutes of flashcard practice or 10 minutes of doing a practice test. If done with focus and intention, that’s a solid study session that can set you on the path to success.
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Toddler (featured in image 2): “Skeptical” by quinn.anya is licensed under CC BY-SA 2.0.
Rat: “Fancy rat blaze” by AlexK100 is licensed under CC BY-SA 2.0.
