I went jogging this morning.
Big deal, right?
But what makes this such a big deal to me, and created its own little adventurebolt, is the fact that I did not want to go jogging. I had zero desire to go jogging, and yet I did. How can that be?
First of all, I woke up later than usual, and in my very structured morning routine, I knew something would have to go by the wayside. Would it be study time, or exercise? After some internal debate, I decided exercise would be the thing to go.
So, I continued on my planned execution of the daily routine, and when I completed all of my other required reading and catch-up for the day, I decided that even if I didn't go jogging, I should still stretch, because that doesn't take long, and I could benefit from that for the rest of the day.
As I completed the stretching, I thought I had some time to get dressed and go outside for at least a walk around the block, as the fresh air would do me some good to clear my head and get my mind set for the day.
As I went outside, I began to feel better and more alert, and I figured I could probably just run part of the course I normally do, and still get back to the house in time to eat and get ready for work.
As I ran, I discovered that I really didn't want to stop running, and that it felt good to be out pushing myself a little (although I felt like I was jogging in slow motion). I began to think about stories I had heard in which soldiers, in the heat of combat, act off of training without really having to think about what they are actually doing. The discipline and training carries them through the overwhelming situation of combat. Obviously, for me, this was not a stressful situation of that magnitude by any means, but before I knew it, I had jogged my complete route and was back at the house in the same amount of time had I really pushed myself to run like I normally do.
As I got back in the house and prepared for my cool-down stretch, I laughed to myself and thought, "What just happened? I had no desire to go jogging, and here I am complete with my route and cooling down!"
While I was eating my breakfast, it occurred to me something very unusual took place which I don't think has ever happened before: I effectively rationalized my way into jogging, even though I didn't want to. I've never done that before. I can tell you, I've made plenty of rationalizations to get out of doing stuff I didn't want to do, but I don't know that I've ever done it the other way around.
The only conclusion I can come to is that my internal routine has become so ingrained in me that it actually has the momentum to keep me on track, even when I don't want to do something. That is a really strange feeling, I must say. It was like having a personal coach that didn't yell at me to keep me motivated, but actually talked me step-by-step to the next point of decision, until I was completely through with what I needed to accomplish.
The adventurebolt lesson for me is two-fold: true discipline (another name for good habit) can actually keep you on your desired path. Repetition is the only way I know of to accomplish this and make it stick. If you know of other beneficial ways to get these positive disciplines ingrained, please comment and let me know.
The other part of this is how the rationalization process simply took me to the next step, and then once I was there, it became more and more evident that I was heading down a certain path of behavior, and before I knew it, I was done.
Knowing this principle is one thing, but to actually have it acted out through personal experience was, well, oddly liberating and strangely eerie at the same time. Do I expect this to happen every time I want to go jogging? No, but I think I've learned that even attempting to do the right thing (or the thing I know I should do) is better than just throwing up my hands and doing nothing at all. You never know how it can turn out. And after all, that's what adventurebolts are all about.
