Why Do You Train? Looking at the Motivation Behind the Goal

About 4–5 minutes

Most people can tell you what they want.

Lose twenty pounds. Run a marathon. Get stronger. Play golf without their back tightening up. Keep skiing. Feel athletic again.

The more interesting question is: Why?

Motivation is not static. The reasons we train at 25 may be very different from the reasons we train at 55 or 65. Sometimes an old motivation continues running quietly in the background long after it has stopped serving us.

I learned this about myself.

When I was young, winning mattered enormously to me. I wanted to become an elite athlete. I wanted to go to the Olympics. Somewhere along the way, achievement also became connected to something deeper: proving that I mattered.

That can be a powerful motivator. It can also be dangerous.

I could push myself well beyond what was useful because working harder felt connected to becoming worthy. Injury did not necessarily tell me to reconsider what I was doing. Sometimes it simply told me to try harder.

It took me years to understand that distinction.

Today I still like to compete. I still like to improve. But improvement no longer has to prove anything about my value as a human being.

That changes the relationship with training.

Your motivation deserves another look

Maybe you started exercising because you wanted to lose weight.

Maybe you trained because you loved competing.

Maybe you wanted somebody’s approval.

Maybe exercise helped you handle stress, anger, fear, loneliness, or uncertainty.

None of those motivations need to be judged as good or bad. They simply need to be understood.

The useful question is:

Is the motivation that got me here still the motivation I want guiding me now?

A man in his 50s who wants to get back into shape does not necessarily need the mentality he had playing football at 22.

A former runner dealing with knee pain may not need more discipline. He may need a different relationship with movement.

Someone returning after an injury may discover that the real goal is not a faster mile or a heavier lift.

It may be confidence.

It may be independence.

It may be getting on the floor with a grandchild and knowing you can comfortably get back up.

It may simply be play.

Pay attention to what happens inside the workout

One tool I’ve found useful is remarkably simple: keep a journal.

Not an elaborate training spreadsheet. Just a few notes.

What did you do?

How did you feel?

What felt good?

What made you anxious?

When did you push even though your body was telling you something different?

Over time, the feelings surrounding the workout can become more revealing than the sets and repetitions.

That information helps us make associations.

And once we can see a pattern, we have the opportunity to change it.

We are always changing anyway.

The interesting part is learning to participate in that change.

Training should help you become more yourself, not spend your life trying to prove that you are enough.

Adapted from Bart’s earlier writing on motivation and his own experience as an athlete and coach.