Discipline is for the people who'll be watching

Sometime this year, I noticed I was losing shape. It wasn't dramatic. There was no single photo or comment that shocked me. It was a slow realisation that the body I was settling into wasn't the one I'd want for my future self.

So on the 4th of August, I started training. Bodyweight only. No gym, no equipment, just me, the floor and whatever my arms and core could manage that day. The goal is simple to say and hard to do: build muscle and get my abs back.

The plan

I keep it planned, because I know myself well enough not to leave it to mood. I train one day, rest the next, then train again. A session on a weekday is usually an hour. When a workout falls on the weekend, I give it two, because that's when I have the time to do it properly.

I've come to see that the workouts aren't really the point. The point is discipline, showing up on the days I don't feel like it. Anyone can train when they're motivated. The real test is the tired evenings and the busy weeks, when skipping would be easy and nobody would notice.

Who is watching

Except, one day, somebody will. I think a lot about the children I hope to have. Before a child listens to anything you say, they watch everything you do. Parents are a child's first source of inspiration. I don't want to be the father who tells his kids to be disciplined. I want to be the one they watched being disciplined, long before they were old enough to understand why.

It's been two months. There's a long way to go, and I'm not writing this because I've arrived. I'm writing it so I remember why I started, for the version of me who'll be tempted to stop, and for the people who'll be watching him.