If you set out to run thirty miles today, where do you think you’ll easily get to without stopping? You’ll get to your highest level of training. So if the most you’ve ever run comfortably is four miles, you’ll peter out somewhere around there. Sure, adrenaline can take you a bit farther, and mind over matter is a big deal too; but typically your body will revert to what it knows and what it feels most comfortable with.
The same can be said for keeping promises to yourself.
If you decide on a goal—for example, “I’m going to write a novel” or “I’m going to run a 10K”—your subconscious will formulate the likelihood of that happening based on past experiences. So when it’s day four and you’re feeling tired and you don’t want to head out for a run, you will revert to the highest level of mental training. What happened the last time you found yourself here? Did you push through and form a habit and get it done? Or did you make an excuse? Did you put it off until later?
Whatever standard you’ve set for yourself is where you’ll end up . . . unless you fight through your instinct and change your pattern.
That’s how I changed my own patterns and behaviors—how I established the rule in my life that I would no longer break a promise to myself no matter how small it was. It all began with Diet Coke.
I used to love—like, obsessively love—Diet Coke.
For the longest time I’d have several Diet Cokes a day. Then I realized how terrible they were for me. I cut my consumption down to one can a day, and I looked forward to that soda like an addict waiting for a high. Do I want to drink it at lunchtime to give the afternoon a little pep? Or should I wait until dinner? We’re eating Mexican food tonight, and Diet Coke is so good with chips and salsa, so maybe holding out is the right choice . . .
I spent way too much time looking forward to the beverage. Then one summer I found myself with terrible vertigo, and I tried cutting anything out of my diet that might be harmful. Even my daily Diet Coke came into question.
Honestly, I thought to myself, what kind of sicko gives up Diet Coke?! Are we supposed to just give up joy and goodness in our lives? Why don’t I give up electricity and live like the Amish?
My inner monologues are incredibly dramatic.
I decided to give it up for a month. I figured one month wasn’t a long time . . . I could hold out for thirty days on anything. The only problem was, I’d never in my life successfully stuck to any kind of diet, exercise, writing, you-name-it without quitting or “cheating” at least a few times. What if just this once, though, I really saw it through?
And so I did.
For thirty days I didn’t have any soda of any kind, which seems like no big deal when you’re healthy and happy and not addicted. For me, that first week was a special kind of hell. But what if, I kept asking myself, what if I just don’t break this promise? One day passed and then another, and by week three, it wasn’t bad at all. At the end of the month I hadn’t broken my word, and by then I didn’t even crave DC anymore. It’s been four years now, and it doesn’t even occur to me to drink Diet Coke like I used to. When faced with it as an option, my instinct is to reach for my training—which tells me that I don’t drink that stuff anymore. Establishing success in this one small area made me realize that the only thing standing between me and achieving my goals is the ability to build on past success.
Running my first half marathon? I got there by committing to running one mile a few times a week. When I kept that promise to myself, committing to running two miles a few times a week didn’t seem like such a tough thing. My training told me that whatever goal I set I would keep, even if I was tired—so I kept showing up.
Writing my first book? It was the same kind of thing. Before that first completed manuscript, I’d started and stopped at least a dozen different novels. But once I got a first draft, I knew it was something I could do. When my instinct is to give up or walk away or throw my computer against the wall when I’m on a deadline, I remember how many times I’ve been here before. I used to wear the word count of my first novel on a cheap gold bracelet around my wrist: 82,311 was etched into it, and every time I looked at it, I would remember what I’d achieved. I was the one who’d strung 82,311 words together in semi-coherent sentences. When faced with the challenge of writing other books, I revert there . . . Well, I think, at least I know I can write that many words. I’ve done it before!
I know that blowing off a workout, a date, an afternoon to organize your closet, or some previous commitment to yourself doesn’t seem like a big deal—but it is. It’s a really big deal. Our words have power, but our actions shape our lives.
If you choose today not to break another promise to yourself, you will force yourself to slow down. You cannot keep every commitment, promise, goal, and idea without intentionality. If you recognize that your words have power and that your commitments carry covenant weight, you won’t agree to anything so easily. You’ll have to ask yourself if you really, truly have time to meet that friend for coffee this week. You’ll have to decide if working out four times before Sunday is a real possibility, or if it’s more realistic and achievable to commit to two beast-mode sessions and then one power walk with your neighbor.
You’ll slow down and think things through.
You won’t just talk about a goal; you’ll plan for how you can meet it. You’ll set a goal and surprise yourself when you achieve it. You’ll teach yourself a new way to behave and set a standard for the type of person you truly are—not the one you’ve dreamed about becoming, but who you practice being every single day.
Also, maybe you’ll consider giving up diet soda because the chemicals in that mess are terrible for you.
THINGS THAT HELPED ME . . .
1. Starting with one small goal. Diet Coke felt like my great white whale at the time, but in retrospect, giving up a soda was a million times easier than running marathons, hitting our annual budget goals, or writing a book. When someone tells me they want to start a diet, I’ll suggest they start by aiming to drink half their body weight in ounces of water every day. It’s much easier to add a habit than to take one away, but the water goal is a challenge. When they conquer that for the month, they’ve set a new standard for achievement and can add on something tougher.
2. Being careful with my commitments. We easily jump on board with anything that sounds good for us. A diet? Of course. Volunteering with church this Saturday? Absolutely. We know these things are important and good, so we say yes, assuming the value of the commitment will motivate us into following through. Unfortunately, that isn’t always the case. Slow down your yes. Only commit to things you know you can accomplish because they’re incredibly important to you. Otherwise you set yourself up for continued failure.
3. Being honest with myself. Be honest with yourself about what you’re blowing off. A little cancellation here or a bow-out there can add up . . . but only if you refuse to acknowledge your actions. If you take a good hard look at what you’ve canceled on in the last thirty days, you might be shocked to discover how you’re training yourself to behave.
CHAPTER 3
The Lie:
I’M NOT GOOD ENOUGH
I am a workaholic.