Changing Behaviours
It was recently pointed out to me that I was not practicing what I preach. Not meant in the sense that I was being hypocritical, more in that I had the tools necessary to help myself at my disposal but wasn’t using them effectively.
Like so many people out there, the uncertainty and upheaval of this year has been getting to me. I know I’ve been fortunate - neither I nor any of my loved ones have caught COVID-19 (to our knowledge), we’re all still in jobs, Andrew and I moved into our new home and the subsequent access to green space has been a real blessing that we would have suffered without.
But I think it’s important to acknowledge that even though we have been lucky, it hasn’t been easy. I don’t mean that in some attempt to garner sympathy - I just mean that I, like many others, have been looking at how difficult it has been for some people and brushing off my own struggles as insignificant by comparison. Yes, perspective is important, but I’ve spent the last nine months disregarding my own feelings and, as a result, neglecting my emotional needs. What I realised is that, no matter how fortunate we’ve been throughout this entire pandemic, it’s still important to take the time and just check in with ourselves.
It took some persistent prompting, but I checked in and realised perhaps I wasn’t doing as well as I’d thought. Little things were piling up. Nothing major, but just enough that I was struggling to find the motivation to do activities I usually enjoy and sometimes - even when I managed to work up the energy - not enjoying them as much as I would normally. Everyday tasks seemed daunting, and social interaction (even virtually) was more exhausting than ever. The latter two aren’t new for me, but that lack of interest in hobbies has always been a red flag for me that something’s not right, and I’m not sure how it took me so long to notice this time.
The problem was, when I did notice, I found my normal coping strategies were not as effective as they’d once been. Breathing techniques no longer settled rising anxiety and boundary routines (vital for anyone working from home) weren’t providing that separation between work and personal life any more. That’s when it was pointed out to me that there were quite a few other things I could be doing to help myself that I wasn’t. Things like regular exercise and healthy eating, practicing mindfulness and meditation, journaling… all things I’ve done in the past to help keep on top of emotional stress, but all things that had slipped. Some of those should be easy enough to pick back up again - it’s no hardship for me to schedule 10-15mins a day to sit quietly and listen to a guided meditation. Journalling maybe has less appeal than it used to, now that so much of my life involves writing, but it’s still not difficult. No, the bit I’m dreading is exercise.
Because here’s the catch. Despite all pretences, I am an innately lazy human being. I picked a static sport for a reason, and more than just poor co-ordination. I have a deep, intense hatred for physical activity. Being out of breath, getting sweaty, the discomfort and the tiredness and the pain… just the worst. I’ve had ten years of cajoling from coaches and physios and managers to get me to do even the most basic of strength and conditioning programmes. The last two years, when I’ve had to do none of it, have been absolute heaven.
But it’s catching up with me. Aside from my expanding waistline, I know getting outdoors is good for my mental health and as my fitness has deteriorated, so has my enjoyment of being outside. Taking the dog for a walk up the hill is no longer an enjoyable pastime I look forward to, but a painful chore I try to avoid. Even my newfound love of gardening has proved challenging because my strength and stamina are so often not up to the task. On a rational level I understand that regular exercise is important for both my physical and mental well-being, but I have such a visceral hatred for it at an emotional level that I struggle to commit to it.
So how do I change it?
Building the habit will be key - I’ve been through this cycle enough times that I know that already. The problem is going to be those first few months while I’m still developing the habit. What can I do to enforce and encourage the behaviour in myself?
I was recently introduced to model, called COM-B, used by behavioural scientists to identify areas in need of intervention in order to effect meaningful behavioural changes. It was a high level explanation, put into layperson’s terms, and I won’t pretend to understand the science that underpins it. But the premise is that a given behaviour will only take place when the individual has the capability, opportunity and motivation in order to enact it. So in this case, the behaviour I am looking to enact is to undertake regular exercise, and I’m using the COM-B model to identify where I’m falling down and can make changes to facilitate that behaviour.
Capability breaks down into both physical and psychological capabilities - so am I physically able to undertake regular exercise, and do I have the understanding and mental skills necessary? The first obvious limitation is around that physical capability. I’m really out of shape. My CV fitness is poor and some parts of my body are pretty wrecked from ten years of shooting.
Fortunately, I’ve been here before and thanks to years of education from SIS physios and S&C coaches, I have the knowledge and understanding necessary to manage that. A routine of daily stretches and regular core-strengthening exercises will go a long way to improve robustness, and interval training will help me build up CV fitness over time. I also have the mental skills necessary to push through discomfort and force myself to do things I don’t enjoy.
Opportunity has both physical and social aspects to it - in this case, do I have access to suitable space or facilities to do exercise, and is it supported by other people? In terms of facility access (aside from the current challenges with COVID, which means I don’t want to access a public gym right now) I live rurally so regular access might be challenging. Not impossible, but if I’m being realistic with myself, I’m unlikely to want to drive 30mins multiple times a week to my nearest gym. Again, I’m fortunate in that I have space at home to workout. I don’t have much in the way of equipment, but I could invest in that at a later date if I felt it was necessary. I also have a Forestry Commission track right outside my door, so I can go running or cycling from home. There’s also the time aspect - are there enough hours in the day? Given that I work part time and run my own schedule that shouldn’t be an issue, but I think planning my days will be important to encouraging the habit. A morning stretch and a lunchtime run might be good options, for example.
Social opportunities are a complex one for me. There is support there, both in terms of those around me and the wider societal norms, but sometimes I feel that can cross the line from support into pressure and I don’t react as well to that as I used to. I also get quite self-conscious when exercising. I’ve talked about my low self-esteem before, and working out with some of the fittest athletes in the country did nothing to ease that. It’s pretty demeaning to be doing your shoulder circuit with a 1kg dumbbell next to a rugby player benching double your bodyweight. As a result, I’m happiest exercising at home where nobody can see me, which suits that opportunity piece fine. Running or cycling on the forestry track makes me a little nervous - I don’t much fancy bumping into the neighbours when I’ve got a face like a beetroot and can’t talk through the stitch in my side - but I think I can push through that. In short, the only barrier here is in my own head and will just need to be managed.
As I suspected, motivation is where I’m falling down. Which is not surprising - when a behaviour is difficult, or even just perceived to be so, human beings are less motivated to do it. Motivation breaks down into reflective (conscious thought processes) and automatic (habitual/instinctive processes) and are feelings of want or need, where want is anticipated pleasure or satisfaction and need is anticipated relief from discomfort. You can see how I struggle to find the motivation for exercise, when it gives me neither pleasure nor satisfaction and in fact exposes me to further discomfort.
But that’s not the whole story. It’s just the part of the story my brain is choosing to remember. Because exercise has, in the past, brought me satisfaction. I started the Couch to 5k programme a couple of years ago and though the first few weeks were absolute hell; I made pretty quick progress, and I took immense satisfaction from that improvement. It won’t surprise anyone to hear that I’m a competitive person, so once it got to the point where I could start trying to beat my times, I started to get quite a kick out of it. And in terms of relief from discomfort, yes, while I was exercising it was uncomfortable. But when I was fitter, I was more comfortable the rest of the time. My back didn’t ache the way it does now. I could walk the dog without getting out of puff. And, most importantly, it was a way to relieve stress and anxiety.
It just goes to show that motivation is a complex beast, and it’s not entirely rational. On a conscious thought level, I can recognise and remember all the good things that come from regular exercise. But emotionally, my brain just remembers how painful or humiliating it was trying to get in shape the last time - and emotions are generally much more powerful than thoughts at influencing our needs and wants.
But I need to do this, and I’m hoping that by recognising this is now a need that will help encourage me to push through the discomfort - both physical and mental. Because I’ve not been taking good enough care of myself, and it’s starting to show. I have the tools at my disposal to fix it. So I guess it’s time to start practicing what I preach.
What are some behaviours you struggle with? Where are the areas that need to change in order to support them? Let me know in the comments below!