What if the thing sabotaging your fitness isn’t lack of discipline—but lack of joy?
When the Steps Didn’t Count
My husband Bill and I spent a long weekend in Seattle walking everywhere. Downtown to Ballard, across the University of Washington campus, up Queen Anne Hill. Miles and miles. At day’s end, Bill checked his Apple Health: “15,000 steps!” I checked mine: 8,200.
Wait. What? We walked the same route. Side by side. All day.
Here’s the embarrassing part: I was genuinely frustrated that my phone didn’t “count” those miles properly. As if exploring Seattle together—the coffee shops, the waterfront, the conversations—somehow didn’t happen because my device didn’t track it right.
When did I start caring more about the number on my phone than the actual experience of moving through a beautiful city with my favorite person?
I’d turned every form of movement into a metric. Dog walks became step counts. Bike rides became mileage. Hikes became elevation gain. The experience didn’t matter anymore—only the data did.
And that’s exactly when exercise stops working long-term. Joy sustains. Data doesn’t.
The “Workout Identity” Trap
“I’m a cyclist.” “I’m a runner.” “I’m a Cross-Fitter.” These identities feel powerful—they give us community and purpose. But they can also trap us. When you’re injured and can’t do your primary sport, you feel lost. Everything becomes “training for” something instead of movement for its own sake.
Even among my wise, balanced friends in exercise class—women who modify, cross-train, and listen to their limits—we’ve made everything serious. The Pilates class? Training for skiing. The walks? Active recovery. The bike rides? Cardio maintenance.
When did we lose permission to move just for the joy of it?
THE REFRAME: You’re not a cyclist or runner or yogi. You’re a person who moves. Sometimes a bike ride is just a bike ride.
Reclaiming Childlike Movement
Watch kids at a playground. They run because running feels good. They climb because climbing is fun. They spin in circles until they fall down, laughing. They’re not tracking steps or training for anything. They’re just moving with pure joy.
Maybe for you it looks like dancing in your kitchen. Taking a bike ride with no destination. Playing with your grandkids. Swimming just to feel the water. It’s not “serious training.” It’s not “making it count.” It’s moving for the pure joy of it—and that’s what keeps us showing up for decades.
Because here’s the truth: discipline without joy is exhausting. You can white-knuckle through a plan for weeks, maybe months. But you don’t need to force yourself to show up for things you actually want to do.
What makes YOU smile? That’s your sustainability plan.
Name, Claim, and Reframe® the Fun Back In
- NAME: “Why does all my movement feel like work? When did it stop being fun?”
- CLAIM: “I value movement that lights me up, not just movement that checks boxes. Joy is a valid reason to move.”
- REFRAME: “The best workout is the one I actually want to do. Joy gets me out the door more consistently than any ‘should’ ever could.”
The Joy Movement Experiment
Your assignment this week (yes, it’s supposed to be fun):
1. Remember Your Childhood Movement. List five ways you loved to move as a child. Not “exercise”—just movement that felt like play. Riding bikes. Dancing in your room. Swimming. Cartwheels.
2. Pick One and Try It This Week. Ground rules: zero metrics, no goals, just move your body.
3. Notice. Did you smile? Lose track of time? Want to do it again? That feeling is your compass.
The Gift of Movement
During ski season, as we arrive at the mountain, I say a little prayer. Grateful that I can still do this. That my body still shows up for me on the slopes.
This is why I take strength training classes each week. Not for aesthetics. Not to prove anything. But to sustain this—the ability to ski the runs I love, with the power and control I need to stay safe. I ski hard until about 1:00 pm. And then I’m done. Not like my twenties, when I had to take the last chair. When more was always better.
This wise woman knows not to be greedy. Stopping while I still have strength left—that’s wisdom, not weakness. That’s how I get to come back tomorrow. And next season. And the season after that.
I’m choosing gratitude. I’m choosing joy. I’m choosing the version of myself who’s still carving turns at 85—because I was smart enough to choose fun over force at 63.
Andrea Mein DeWitt, M.Ed., PCC, CPCC, is the Global Authority on Cognitive Reframing and author of Name, Claim & Reframe: Your Path to a Well-Lived Life, recognized by NBC’s TODAY Show as 2023’s best motivational read (now available as an audiobook), and the companion Name, Claim & Reframe Workbook, that provides practical exercises for applying these principles. Through her coaching, workshops, and writing, she helps ambitious professionals transform their perspectives to unlock their full power and potential. Learn more at andreadewittadvisors.com.
