9/30/2017–Why does it always take me so long to even begin to develop a new habit?
When I learn of something that is supposed to be healthy or helpful at work, it will be obvious right away how valuable this new behavior will be to adopt. That’s the “why” that is so important to understand before changing (why does or should that change matter to me?) Still, there’s a kind of inertia I feel that prevents me from losing vices. It’s so strong that forming a new habit–even putting together two days in a row of “hitting” my goal–takes me like a month or two. Once I do, it’s always so much easier than I remember thinking it would be. I’m always asking, “why did it take me so long to be able to do this? This isn’t that hard, and the benefit is so obvious!”
The latest was a system for managing work within Outlook. Reading about it made it clear how effective it would be, and setting it up in Outlook was simple enough. But the time between that day I set it up and the first week I followed it totally was almost two months. Now, managing work tasks probably has a built-in lag that contributed to this delay. In other words, there are outstanding tasks on the day I begin my new system, so the new process really only applies to tasks from that day onward. I’ll still have time yet before these new tasks–scheduled under my new process–start to be scheduled and done. That delay is a nice excuse to have not to adopt a new set of behaviors, but it doesn’t quite explain the huge gap between knowing and doing.
What doesn’t have a built-in lag is quitting sugar (Side note: I don’t mean to suggest this vice is as “serious” as others, but it’s one of mine and is a source of self-consciousness, though I consider myself blessed to not be dealing with things others consider “worse”).
I was raised to have a sweet tooth, so I’ve found avoiding sweets requires not having easy access to them. This is the latest proof I’ve seen of the “lizard brain” concept. Many people use that phrase to describe the inner, older brain that manages basic instincts, including hunger. Even with several years of studying nutrition, it’s completely clear that knowing why sweets are unhealthy is inadequate defense against the convenience and attraction of unhealthy food. My latest period of sustained failure lasted about three weeks. I live above a shop–open til 8pm–that sells ridiculously good chocolate chip cookies. So I’m faced daily with the opportunity to satisfy the lizard brain that’s aware of a convenient source of efficient energy (sugar). Worse, since they’re open late the temptation exists long past the point of the day when willpower has reduced (another popular psychological theory). So I started going every couple of days, soon daily. I knew from the moment I started this trend how undisciplined it was. Though not devastatingly unhealthy, a cookie a day was clearly more than an occasional indulgence. I’d never get moody about a food, but I can’t say it wasn’t on my mind at various points in the day. How insane! But, as this article points out, even though I recognized the problem and solution, the behavior continued on. After about three weeks of almost-daily visits, the ridiculousness bubbled-up enough to cause change. I had a moment of clarity in which I really felt how crazy my behavior had been, and I apparently value “not acting crazy” above sweets. Nothing about it was productive–I wasn’t eating with people, I certainly could use the money on something better, I wasn’t short on time seeking quick bite, I wasn’t even trying any new items–just the same chocolate chip cookie every time. So when I stepped back and considered what I was doing, it became clear that it wasn’t anything having to do with eating or food. This was a psychological pattern–a habit–that was unhelpful. I haven’t been back since then.
But I’ve since discovered a new ice cream and am far from being cured. Slate writer Heather Schwedel nailed it:
All any dieting person really wants is to eat a whole container of something. Halo Top understands this.