By a guy who believes in grace, sweat, and ice cream for breakfast…
The Routine Was Starting to Stare Back
After about the twentieth morning of doing the same half-hearted bodyweight workout in my living room, I could swear my yoga mat rolled its eyes at me. Not metaphorically. It actually rolled — like it was trying to make a break for it. Even the houseplants were starting to lean away from me, like they didn’t want to witness another half-hearted set of squats to lo-fi beats.
That’s when it hit me: I wasn’t working out — I was just reenacting an ancient ritual of boredom. Like Groundhog Day in sweatpants.
I wasn’t tired. I was bored. And bored, for me, is just a step away from giving up.
Discipline’s Evil Twin: Monotony
See, monotony’s sneaky. It dresses up like discipline. It tells you that routine is noble. That if you just grind a little harder, stick it out, don’t flinch, you’ll be rewarded. But the problem is, it forgets to bring joy. Or oxygen. Or the spark that makes you want to keep going instead of crawling back under the covers with a bag of pretzels and a vague sense of failure.
Monotony is not your friend. Curiosity is. So is surprise. So is switching it up before your spirit puts up a “Gone Fishing” sign.
So I Did Something Dumb — and Perfect
One morning, I said screw it. I laced up my sneakers and danced in the kitchen. Not well. Think “dad-at-a-wedding” meets “mosquito caught in a ceiling fan.” But man, I was alive. I laughed. I sweated. I accidentally knocked over a houseplant. Then I tried planking with my kid on my back. Then I walked backwards up a hill because I read somewhere it’s good for the brain.
Was it efficient? Nope. Did I burn calories? Sure. But more importantly, I woke up. Not just physically, but spiritually. I remembered I wasn’t doing this just to shrink my waistline — I was doing it to expand my life.
Your Goals Don’t Care How You Get There
We get so wrapped up in perfect routines, we forget that movement is what matters. So you miss a day? Big whoop. So you swap the spin bike for a hike or a badly choreographed living room dance party? Your body doesn’t file a complaint. Your soul, though — it might just throw a parade.
Changing up your routine doesn’t mean you’re slacking. It means you’re staying in the game. It means you’re listening to the part of yourself that says, Hey, I’d like this to not suck.
Faith, Not Force
Changing your routine isn’t quitting. It’s a kind of faith — faith that joy and growth are not mutually exclusive. That you don’t have to grind yourself into dust to be worthy. That you’re allowed to try something new. Fail at it. Laugh. Try again.
So yeah — stretch, sweat, show up. But don’t be afraid to color outside the lines once in a while. Wear the ridiculous socks. Do shadow boxing in the mirror. Try tai chi in the park even if you feel like a confused flamingo.
Your body will thank you. But more importantly, your soul will high-five you.
P.S. Try changing up your routines in other areas of your life if you feel stagnant.
