We buried my grandfather on Groundhog’s Day.
“Jesus Christ, Dan. You are just going right for it and starting with the dead grandparent in sentence one?!?”
Simply, yes.
The irony of burying my grandfather on Groundhog’s Day is that it was his favorite holiday.
Just as “The Muppet Show” was his favorite thing to watch on television.
These two facts alone should tell you a lot about my grandfather, but they wouldn’t come close to revealing the entire picture.
He laughed constantly. An infectious laugh that was uniquely his own.
He always greeted us by saying “Hello, young people!” regardless of how old you were and asked how things were wherever you were traveling from.
He was also a man of remarkable routine.
He would arrive at work at 7AM, operate his machine for precisely three and a half hours, then take a thirty minute break to eat exactly the same thing and read two newspapers (never trusting that he’d get the entire story from just one).
He sat in the same dinner seat. Sat on the same couch seat. Watched the same programs. Wore the same hat and tie to holiday meals. Took the same two week vacation back to his home country to visit his relatives and drove the same roads to-and-from work.
And, he did this for roughly 70 years. Same house. Same wife. Same life.
Now, for many of you, this sounds like a nightmare. How can anyone feel content doing the same exact shit day after day, year after year for seemingly an eternity?
But here’s the crazy thing, my grandfather seemed remarkably content living this way. One of the happiest people I’ve ever known.
The things that most people chase today, he would find them silly. Who needs a fancier car? Who needs a bigger house? I’ve got the same sized ass, sitting on the same sized couch.
Now, this isn’t a rally cry to count your blessings or never strive for anything more in your life. I don’t know that I necessarily agree with that.
But there is magic in sticking to the same routine and going very, very deep down a path of repetition.
It allowed my grandfather to be very connected to everything he valued.
And it’s what will allow you to make progress in the gym.
Showing up at the same days and at the same times. Mastering the same exercises rather than chasing variety. Logging your weights consistently. These mundane and repetitive traits are what will ultimately lead to the greatest success in the gym.
And, yes, of course things need to progress. And, yes, there is a time to introduce new things and even experiment a bit. But just like my grandfather’s 10:30AM bagel with butter, most aspects of your training should be reliable for years.
Sean was desperate to get back into the military. He had done a tour of service, got into the private sector, realized he missed it and was hoping to take one last shot at reenlisting.
Problem was, he was about 270lbs which did not sit very well on his five foot, six inch frame and was above the military maximum for active duty. So he came to me for nutrition help back when I was offering such a thing.
It was pretty simple. Based purely on where he was and where he wanted to go I devised a two day meal plan. He was to alternate between these days and, in about 6 weeks, we’d reassess, make adjustments and continue the process.
At the first assessment, things looked good. He’d lost 9 pounds which was perfect for the time frame. We decided to stick to the plan and reassess in another 6 weeks.
But Sean disappeared. He didn’t return texts. He didn’t show up for his appointment. I figured he’d just given this entire ‘get back into the military’ some second thought and decided to drop it.
I’d just about forgotten Sean’s name 5 years later when he reached back out. He still had his sights set on rejoining the military. He wanted to know if I would meet up and see if I could help.
When he walked in, I couldn’t believe it. If it wasn’t for him greeting me with his very distinct Brooklyn accent I don’t think I would have recognized him.
He’d lost 115 pounds.
“Sean, you look great. What have you been doing for nutrition since we worked together?” I asked.
“What do you mean,” he replied somewhat confused.
“I’ve been doing what you told me.”
Turns out that Sean had followed that two day meal plan that I gave him, without fail, for five years.
And that’s when it clicked for me.
Sean didn’t need motivation. He didn’t need novelty or a better plan.
He just needed the same two days over and over again.
Which is probably why my grandfather loved Groundhog’s Day so much.
For him, his life was like the movie.. The same scenes, the same lines, the same day on repeat.
But my grandfather saw something else.
There is comfort in knowing what comes next. There is power in choosing it anyway.
For seventy years, he woke up and lived the same day, not because he was stuck, but because he was anchored.
And in the end, that sameness didn’t make his life smaller. It made it full.
Progress doesn’t come from the big, dramatic changes we swear will “finally do it.”
It comes from deciding to show up tomorrow. And then doing it again the next day.
Even if it feels boring. Even if it looks unimpressive. Even if no one is watching.
Especially then.