Crap Sandwiches: A tool in your consistency toolkit
The tarnished rubber band of my FitBit reverberates off my wrist.
It’s 6:15 a.m.
My feet hit the cold mahogany-coloured floor as I beeline towards the kitchen to fill the racecar-red kettle. As water boils for coffee, I push aside the heavy glass sliding door and step onto the balcony in my t-shirt and shorts.
Crisp March air fills my lungs and wraps around my body as I draw slower and deeper breaths to calm my panicking nervous system. I stretch my shivering arms towards the slowly lightening early morning sky.
When I step inside, I’ll pull on a sweater and sip steaming coffee from my maple leaf engraved mug.
Sitting at the darkened oak kitchen table, fueling on jet-black joe, I light a candle and peel open my navy blue journal. I scribble the date and time in the top left-hand corner and start writing. My anxieties and ambitions, worries and wants, to-dos and triumphs flood the page.
I journal until my head is clear then pour a second coffee and flip open my laptop, concern quietly percolating. Will I wrestle with writer's block? Or say something in an interesting way?
As the clock nears 10 a.m., I feel as relieved as a student handing in their final exam before Christmas break. I showed up. Wrote something. The hardest work of the day is behind me.
I pick up my phone for the first time and smile at missed messages for a few minutes before lacing up my shoes and heading out for a run or a lift.
On days when I’m sore or can see snow swirling outside, I don’t feel like leaving the cozy confines of the condo.
The resistance to start is strong.
But I remember the endorphin hit I get from exercise and the chocolate blueberry protein smoothie waiting for me at the end. Five minutes into my workout I forget why I had such a hard time starting.
The cold shower that follows my post-training smoothie makes me want to crawl back into bed. But my first warm meal of the day sits on the other side of breathing through a few seconds of cold water.
After breakfast, I timidly wade back into the daunting work of writing. Uncertain whether I’ll be able to produce something I’m proud of but comforted by the long post-work walk that marks the end of my day.
*
Runs.
Workouts.
Cold showers.
Mentally demanding work.
My days are woven with discomfort. Tasks that are good for me but are intimidating to start.
The first five minutes of a writing session, pulling on my shorts and lacing up my shoes, turning the shower faucet from soothing warmth to a pulse-raising cold. I enjoy these things once I’ve begun because of the instant mood spike and delayed sense of accomplishment.
But I still face resistance to start every day.
I sandwich uncomfortable habits between two things I look forward to — candlelit journaling, coffee, smoothies, breakfast, small phone breaks, and long walks — to make showing up and starting easier.
These relaxing moments serve as Mental Bookends for the hard things. I know the uncomfortable task will end and I have something to look forward to once it does.
If I can start, I’ll be consistent 99% of the time.
Making a Crap Sandwich helps me get over the initial suckiness of starting the uncomfortable thing.
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Lots of love,
Jack
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This is a great essay, Jack. We could all use a crap sandwich to help us build good habits. And once we clarify what's in it for us when we do the uncomfortable thing, it will be more motivating to be consistent. I'm curious: Do you have a favorite uncomfy habit?
Such beautiful writing Jack
When I trained for my marathon, what helped me fight Resistance was to visualize the night before the worst conditions (cold, pouring rain) and putting my shoes on anyway.