We either make ourselves miserable or we make ourselves strong. The amount of work is the same.
—Carlos Castaneda
“Running an ultramarathon can’t be good for you. I can’t imagine how it’s possibly good for your body,” I said.
I wasn’t biting on endurance. Running wasn’t my thing and it never had been. Brian MacKenzie laughed: “Good for you physically? No. But you’ll recover. And I assure you: if you run 50K or 100 miles, when you finish, you won’t be the same person who started.”
I thought for a minute, and that’s when I bit.
I’d seen a strange ripple effect dozens of times in the world of strength, but for some reason, I’d never connected the dots with endurance. Perhaps just as you haven’t connected the dots with some subjects in this book. After all, in a knowledge economy, what’s the value of deadlifting more or losing 2% bodyfat? Of hitting a home run?
My father lost 70+ pounds of fat in 10 months and tripled his strength. During his annual checkup, his doctor declared that he might live forever.
The physical changes were incredible, but the curious side effects of the program were the strongest incentives to continue. As my dad explained:
It’s very odd. I used to feel like the invisible man, but now people more readily ask my opinion and take me more seriously. I went from not being noticed to being noticed. Quite apart from the aesthetic and performance benefit, there’s a huge social benefit. I lost my invisibility.
Also, after losing 50 or 60 pounds and doing what you once thought impossible, you start to see the other “impossibles”—doubling income in 12 months or whatever—as “possibles.”
This book is a Trojan horse full of unexpected transfers.
It’s intended to make you a better all-around human. It’s also intended to make you a role model for those around you.
Most of us have resigned ourselves to a partial completeness, just as Chad Fowler did before losing more than 100 pounds. Partial completeness can take many forms, usually in the form of self-talk like:
“I’m just not [thin, fast, strong, muscular, etc.]. That’s the way it is.”
“XYZ doesn’t matter. It’s not that important.”
These are said or thought for many reasons. Oftentimes, they’re used to excuse something on the outside that people believe they can’t change.
The beauty is, almost all of it can be changed.
More important, the reason to change the physical isn’t physical at all.
In 2007, I was interviewed for the monthly newsletter of Eben Pagan, who runs a $30 million per year relationship-advice empire. One of his first questions was:
“What’s the fastest way for someone to improve their inner game?”
To which I responded:
“Improve your outer game.”
If you want to be more confident or effective, rather than relying on easily-defeated positive thinking and mental gymnastics, learn to run faster, lift more than your peers, or lose those last ten pounds. It’s measurable, it’s clear, you can’t lie to yourself. It therefore works.
Recall Richard Branson’s answer to the question “How do you become more productive?”: work out.
The Cartesian separation of mind and body is false. They’re reciprocal. Start with the precision of changing physical reality and a domino effect will often take care of the internal.
Your body is almost always within your control.
This is rare in life, perhaps unique. Simply focusing on some measurable element of your physical nature can prevent you from becoming a “Dow Joneser,” someone whose self-worth is dependent on things largely outside of their control.
Job not going well? Company having issues? Some idiot making life difficult? If you add ten laps to your swimming, or if you cut five seconds off your best mile time, it can still be a great week.
Controlling your body puts you in life’s driver’s seat.
Fifteen months after giving birth to her first child, Dara Torres took home the U.S. Nationals gold medal in the 100-meter freestyle … at age 40. Three days later she broke her own record in the youth-dominated 50-meter freestyle, a record she’d set at age 15.
At age 45, George Foreman knocked out Michael Moorer, age 26, to become heavyweight boxing champion of the world, reclaiming the title he’d lost to Muhammad Ali two decades earlier.
Jack “The Dipsea Demon” Kirk ran the infamous Dipsea trail race for the first time in 1905. He proceeded to run it 67 times, the last at age 94, and broke the record for consecutive foot races held by Boston Marathon legend Johnny Kelley. Jack’s oft-repeated saying was “You don’t stop running ’cause you get old. You get old if you stop running!”
Refuse to accept partial completeness.
Take the next step: uncap a pen and take an inventory of all the things in the physical realm that you’ve resigned yourself to being poor at. Now ask: if I couldn’t fail, what would I want to be exceptional at? Circle these alternate realities.
This list, circles staring back at you, gives you a blueprint for not just a new body, but an entirely new life.
It’s never too late to reinvent yourself.
Computer scientist Alan Kay once said, “The best way to predict the future is to invent it.”
Where will you start?