As you all know (or at least all of you who have been to the gym in the last week, the Whole Life Challenge kicks off September 29th. Many of you have already signed up (43 to be exact!) and I am beyond excited to see how this challenge impacts your life. If you are still on the fence, the article below from Andy Petranek, the founder of the Whole Life Challenge, is a must read. It really resonated with me and speaks to why I participate in the WLC almost every time. Also, stay tuned for dates and sign up sheets for the benchmark workout and body composition testing. Mercy Sports Medicine will offer this testing at Catacombs in the days leading up to the challenge and immediately following. The cost is $20 and will get you metrics pre and post challenge.
From Andy:
I don’t naturally eat well. Maintaining a diet free from sugar, artificial ingredients, and bread is not something I would ever do were it not for knowing the hidden, long-term health consequences. Truth be told, I didn’t want to participate in the first Whole Life Challenge — because I didn’t want to have to come face-to-face with the fact that my diet sucked.
On the outside, things looked great. I was fit as a fiddle and had maintained my bodyweight at a consistent 160 pounds for about twenty years. But that wasn’t because of particularly good eating habits.
I drank up to six Diet Cokes each day (plus a Red Bull or two); cereal, muffins, and bagels were a staple of breakfast (with pasta or rice at dinner); and I would almost always finish the entire bread basket myself when out at dinner. My wife would have to remove the basket from eyesight to get me to stop eating it before dinner arrived.
And sugar? No limits. An entire box of Girl Scout cookies? no problem. A pint of ice cream? Easy. A container of mini chocolate chip cookies from Trader Joes? While I never finished the whole thing in one sitting, I came close.
The biggest problem for me — and the reason I didn’t change my diet — was that I didn’t perceive any consequence to my behavior. I didn’t exhibit one visible sign or symptom of my crappy eating. Sure, I might not have slept as well as I could have, but as far as how I looked and performed? Nothing was wrong.
So at the start of the first Whole Life Challenge in 2011, I was confronted with the internal dialogue, “Well I guess I really should do this since I am the co-founder and all, but I really don’t want to!” Seriously, the absolute lastthing I wanted to do was to rock my own nutrition boat. You can ask any of the coaches who worked at my gym at the time. They created a little competition among us: we put in a hundred dollars each and the point winner would take all.
I was the last to join — and I did so kicking and screaming.
As it turned out, my experience wasn’t nearly as bad as I made it out to be in my head. I didn’t get a perfect score, but I was able to fend off most of my regular poor nutritional habits. As a consequence of reducing the sugar, keeping off the stimulants, and eliminating the bread and pasta, I felt significantly better by the end of the Challenge.
And then I went right back to eating like I always had.
Over the next six years, I participated in each Challenge. I was willing to change my eating habits and “turn on” accountability, as long as I knew I could go back to “normal” and turn it off during the weeks between.
As a result, what occurred over that time period happened completely by accident. My diet, ever so slowly, started to improve. Without really trying to hang on to any of the 7 Daily Habits that I practiced during the Challenge, I started to make different choices between Challenges. My choices were still not “perfect” in any sense of the word, but they were better choices than I had previously made — and, best of all, the changes felt nominal, like minor sacrifices, and were totally doable every step of the way.
I inadvertently developed an on-off practice that allowed me to create a general trend upward over the years. Since I never strove for perfection, and continued to consistently show up, the changes occurred naturally, on their own, almost in spite of me. In fact, I didn’t even realize changes were happening until I took a moment to look back.
At no point along the journey did it feel like I was making life-long commitments or changes. I never strove for perfection; I just let the shifts come as they did. But ever so slowly, the crappy food started to have much less control over me and I found myself able to powerfully choose, and more importantly, I had the desire to opt for healthier options.
So, what can you learn from my accidental discovery of my gently sloping, long-term nutrition improvements?