I’m in Portugal as I write this and it’s a lot warmer than home in Northern Ireland.
Last Saturday was particularly warm.
By the time I left our apartment just before 8am it was already 24 degrees.
I knew what workout was ahead of me and my mind was already registering its dissatisfaction.
The workout included a 4×4 Norwegian protocol.
Without question, the most painful session of the week and my least favourite.
For anyone unfamiliar with it, the protocol involves four intervals of four minutes at over 90% of maximum heart rate, with four minutes recovery between each effort.
Sixteen minutes in total at an intensity that gets your attention very quickly.
The first minute is usually fine.
After that, things get interesting.
By three minutes you’re bargaining.
By four minutes you’re just relieved to hear the timer beep.
Then you spend the recovery trying not to think about doing it all again.
And each interval is usually a little harder than the one before.
I love training.
I do not love Norwegians … at least not before I do them.
And on this particular morning I wanted to do them even less than usual.
I knew I’d be doing them on an Echo bike, which appears to have been specifically designed to make people question their life choices.
By the time I arrived at the gym with Jules, my mind was already hard at work.
It’s too hot.
Jordan would understand.
You could just do Zone 2.
You could do a threshold session instead.
You could do one interval.
Maybe two.
Surely nobody expects you to do all four in this temperature.
The thoughts just kept coming.
Relentlessly.
As I moved through my warm-up and core work, they never really stopped.
But something interesting happened.
I kept following the programme on my app.
I noticed the thoughts.
At times I was even tempted by them.
But I kept following the programme.
Before I knew it, I was warming up on the Echo bike.
Then I was into the first interval.
Then the second.
Then the third.
The temperature in the gym was now pushing 30 degrees.
I was drenched.
My breathing was all over the place.
At the end of the first interval the dominant thought was:
“You’re not seriously going to do that again, are you?”
By the end of the second interval something had shifted.
The discouraging voice was getting quieter.
Instead of focusing on what remained, I found myself thinking:
“That’s two done. Just two to go.”
By the end of the third interval, I was in bits.
But I knew I was finishing.
The argument was over.
The thoughts had lost.
Not because they disappeared.
Because I stopped treating them as instructions.
I completed all four intervals.
And once I could breathe normally again, I was ridiculously pleased with myself.
The photo attached shows how my heart rate monitor recorded my effort.
I’ve reflected on that session a lot over the last few days.
My thinking was so determined to stop me.
It had reasons.
It had evidence.
It had logic.
It had feelings.
But it was still just thinking.
I knew what I was there to do.
And just because a thought shows up doesn’t mean it’s true.
It doesn’t mean it’s helpful.
And it certainly doesn’t mean I have to follow it.
Our thoughts can feel incredibly convincing, especially when they arrive with strong emotions attached.
Fearful thoughts create fearful feelings.
Doubtful thoughts create doubtful feelings.
The combination can look like guidance.
But it’s still just thinking.
If I acted on every thought that passed through my head, my life would be a complete mess.
The thoughts that most often get in my way are the ones that show up when I’m about to do something new.
Something uncomfortable.
Something that matters.
Something that might change me or create a big shift in my business or my relationships.
For years I treated those thoughts as signs to slow down or stop.
Now I see them differently.
They’re not instructions.
They’re not predictions.
They’re not reality.
They’re simply an indication of what my mind is producing in that moment.
The difference is huge.
Because when I follow those thoughts, I stay where I am.
Nothing changes.
Nothing grows.
But when I’m clear about what I want and keep moving in that direction regardless of what my thinking is doing, something different happens.
I grow.
I change.
I create.
And as my client Shilpa would say…
I become unstoppable.
Not because the thoughts disappear.
Because I stop treating them as instructions.
Much love
Peter