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My personal trainer is out of town on vacation, and so this week I’m on my own in showing up for and directing my workouts. (Literary alert: Extended metaphor ahead!)

I do not want to go work out today, as evidenced by the fact that I am procrastinating by writing this blog post instead of getting it over with. The truth is I never want to go work out. I don’t actually love doing it. It’s hard. In the moment it feels bad.

What I love, though is how good it makes me feel later—maybe not in the day or two afterward, when I’m walking around like Frankenstein’s monster because everything is stiff. But for most of the rest of my life when I am not actively working out or feeling the acute effects of pushing myself beyond what I’m capable of doing at that moment, my regular workout practice has made me feel stronger, more fit, more agile, and more energetic.

Not unlike the way that the more regularly I write, the more progress I make on my projects and the better I get as a writer.

I like the way I look thanks to my exercise regimen too, and it’s much more fun to get dressed every day when I’m not mostly focusing on the cunning use of camouflage. I like that, as I frequently tell my husband, I’m creating the body I’m going to age in, and hopefully putting currency in the bank for a healthier and more active old age.

There’s no resting on laurels in writing. As soon as you stop, your work stops growing, both literally and figuratively.

Dammit.

In the same way, even when I don’t always feel like writing, I love rereading what I’ve accomplished thanks to my regular writing practice, love the body of work I’ve created, love that I’m putting ideas into the world that will hopefully continue to reach people long into the future.

And the extra-annoying thing is, I have to keep working out regularly to continue to reap those benefits I value. It’s the same gripe I have with vacuuming: I can’t just endure the unpleasantness to get to the point where I want things and then trust that it will last forever. I have to vacuum again. Regularly, in fact.

I have to go into the gym multiple times a week, even on days when I don’t feel like it, even when I’m busy, or else all these muscles I’ve created start to atrophy and fade away. I lose all the ground I’ve already gained.

There’s no resting on laurels in writing either. As soon as I stop, my work stops growing, both literally and figuratively.

Dammit again.

Creating a Writing Workout Regimen

As with writing—which I genuinely enjoy—it’s not that I don’t like physical activity. I actually love it. Point me toward any kind of a game or something physical and fun and I’m in. I often take breaks in the middle of my writing day and go jump like a frolicsome child on my mini trampoline for a quick energy and mood boost. I take classes in self-defense and dance and bungee-fitness. I play pickleball and go on bike trips and hike with friends and walk my two dogs—separately!—every single day, twice a day.

But that’s not necessarily going to get me the specific results I want, which—let’s be honest—have more than a little bit to do with muscles. I like being strong.

It’s called a workout, not a “fun-out.” It’s right there in the name.

Read more: “Why Do You Write?“

If all I wanted was to stay in reasonable shape and good health, my fun activities are probably enough, but they’re not going to get me to my personal goals—just like the fun writing of journaling and sprints and self-contained passages where you simply get to indulge your imagination and creativity aren’t necessarily going to get you toward your specific publication goals if that includes full-length stories and publication. For that you have to be a bit more disciplined and do things that may feel hard in the moment and a lot less fun.

It’s called a “workout,” not a “fun-out.” I mean, it’s right there in the name.

Finding the Fun in the Pain

And yet…if I’m honest (do NOT tell my trainer this), I actually do like my workouts most of the time. As much as it’s challenging to push myself to the point of exhaustion and muscle failure, it’s also fun to face that challenge, to meet it, to slowly see my progress as it takes more to challenge me as time goes on and I realize how much stronger I’ve become.

And it’s fun to share that with my “workout community.” My trainer has become a friend—we chat a lot about our lives and businesses. I look forward to seeing him when I go.

I share sessions with my best friend, so I get to hang out with her for a bonus hour twice a week too, and we chat throughout the workout—sometimes to the point that our trainer must break us up to separate corners of the gym to make us focus, but being together makes the time more enjoyable and lets us complain good-naturedly to each other about the pain and effort, which seems to lessen them.

And a whole bunch of our friends have started working out at the same gym—some with our same trainer at different times—so we get to compare notes and progress, which is validating and…okay, I’ll admit it, fun.

I have a lot of pressing items on my to-do list today. It would be easy to just bottom-list my workout and reclaim that hour for other projects. After all, my trainer isn’t here and no one is waiting for me or expecting me to get my ass in there. I’m the only one holding me accountable.

But I know that if I miss one workout, it’s going to be easier to miss the next one too. And once I’ve missed two, I’m going to start to lose motivation because I know my abilities will already be starting to slip and the next workout is going to be a lot harder. Plus I’ll start to get used to reclaiming that time in my schedule and I’ll lose the habit.

Read more: Getting Back on Track When Your Writing Is Derailed"

So I’m off to the gym to push myself “to the pain!” as Westley challenges Prince Humperdinck. The hardest part is so often just getting myself there. But I default to my established routines: put on my workout clothes and shoes, do my warm-up, get my water, and physically show up to where I need to be. That’s the biggest hurdle. Once I’m there I’ve got momentum and I’ll do what I need to do. Eventually I know I’ll start to actually relish pushing myself.

And even if I don’t enjoy it today…I’ll still be glad I did it.

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