May 29
Act like you plan to do it. I can move myself along any behavior continuum by acting like I really intend to do whatever – eat right, exercise, etc. I can bring my workout clothes with me. I can keep deodorant, Shower To Shower, extra sneakers and socks, umbrellas and reflector bands in both my office and car. At least being unprepared won’t be a reason I don’t do it.
Case in point: When I truly intended to do an exercise DVD at home, I would move the wicker trunk at the end of my bed out of the way, put my sneakers on it and slide the DVD into the player the night before. If I didn’t do that, then I really wasn’t intending to do it no matter what I told myself. I would get up in the morning and say, “Ah, well, the trunk is in the way. That’s way too much of a hassle to move.” A client of mine sleeps in her workout clothes (except the sports bra she hangs over her bedstead). Not having to get dressed in a cold room moves her one step closer to actually doing the exercise. One less excuse to buy into.
Another case in point: I used to work in a weight clinic in one of those beautiful old homes on Prospect Avenue in Hackensack. I worked till about 8 pm several nights a week and had a routine of attending a cardio class at 8:30 pm at the club I belong to in Waldwick. I had to drive past where I lived to get to the club. It was all working like a well-oiled machine as long as I was going for a (terrific) bran muffin and coffee afterward at a Matthew’s Diner. In hindsight, I guess the muffin was the hook, because once I gave up the muffin (the 800 calorie “cost” eventually wore me down), I found myself unable to get past my home in the Township to get to the club on those nights. First, I thought that maybe it was because the clothes I would be changing into were in the trunk of my car and were ice cold at that time of night in Winter. So, I brought them into the office. But that didn’t work, so eventually I changed into them in the office before I left. That did it apparently. I never missed again. That action apparently moved me along the continuum of my own intention just enough to get me to the club – even without the reward of a bran muffin.
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