When we think of achievement, we glamorize what we see externally. The views, the likes, the shares, the accolades, the body fat percentage, the title, the line item on your resume. But what leads to those outputs are the inputs, which we are more likely to reach if we focus on how we want to define the input.
Every book starts with writing one word.
Every workout starts with practicing one rep.
Every fat loss journey starts with changing what you eat for one meal.
Every new project starts with not even one hour, but just one minute.
And yet we usually focus on the immensity of what we are trying to achieve, and as a result the input required is left vague and undefined. It’s easier to write 1 word than write a book. It’s easier to do just 1 push-up than a 60-minute workout. It’s easier to cut down your portions by 1/3 instead of thinking about not being able to snack for 30 days straight. And it’s easier to work for just ten minutes rather than think about the 3-month endeavor you’re about to embark on.
It sounds ridiculous, to just write one word, practice one rep, change just one meal, or work for one minute. But if it’s the difference between doing something and nothing, between practicing consistency and breaking your streak, it might seem more ridiculous how unwilling you are to doing the bare minimum.
The hardest part of any endeavor, in pursuing any ambition, is likely the beginning. And that’s because we’re stuck in the inertia of how we feel rather than trying to gain momentum. If you ask your inertia what it should do, it will likely respond with “keep doing what you’re already doing,” which is likely nothing.
Ignore your inertia. Just focus on getting in motion. Because once you’re in motion, your inertia will still tell you to “keep doing what you’re already doing,” which is now something.
