Restarting what we stopped (or getting back on the horse)

Sometimes, my routines go all up in the air: I stop exercising, writing, practicing the guitar; I cease doing things I want to do consistently.

I call this getting off the horse. Sometimes it's more like falling off the horse, though!

I think we've all run into this sometime in our lives. Everything is going well; we're hitting a stride and progressing on our activity when bam! – something happens, and now we're off the horse.

That happens.

Here's what happened to me and how I got back on the horse.

Sleeping in

I'm sleeping in this week.

I was flying home last week, and a series of unfortunate events turned a 2-hour layover into a 30-hour ordeal:

• First, a mechanical issue delayed the flight and forced us to stay in a hotel overnight.
• After boarding the following day, one of the plane's computers had technical issues that prevented take-off.
• Then, a passenger protested he didn't want to fly anymore.
• Then, the same passenger didn't want to leave the plane anymore and had to be removed!
• Finally, the whole crew had to be replaced because it had been so long since we boarded.

Eventually, we flew home. Phew!

Crazy layovers or not, traveling and jet lag often mess up my sleep schedule.

So I'm just sleeping in until I readjust.

Traveling gets me "off the horse"; my routines get disrupted, and my habits get broken.

Getting off the horse happens sometimes, and it's okay.

I enjoy my time off the horse without guilt because I know I'll be back on the horse soon.

No need to force it.

Clarifying purpose: understand why we do it

One reason I know I'll resume my activities is that I clearly understand why I'm doing them.

I know why I want to run every day, why I study deep learning, and why I decided to write.

These reasons create a constant pull for me to return on the horse when not doing them.

I was so eager to write that I wrote part of this article in my free time instead of my writing time.

It's just hard not to write about this.

Gretchen Rubin talks about the importance of purpose for sticking to habits in her book Better Than Before:

Questioners [..] think, “What needs to get done today, and why?” They decide for themselves whether a course of action is a good idea, and they resist doing anything that seems to lack sound purpose. [..] If Questioners believe that a particular habit is worthwhile, they’ll stick to it — but only if they’re satisfied about the habit’s usefulness.

Rubin, Gretchen. Better Than Before (p. 21). Crown/Archetype. Kindle Edition.

Identity: being a certain type of person

I love running every day. I like telling others, "I run every morning."

A few months ago, I decided to study deep learning, and after much deliberation about when to do it, I decided to stop running in the mornings to make time for it.

However, I've changed back and forth between running and studying deep learning several times.

I'm still struggling NOT to run every morning. Part of the reason is that I want to be the type of person that runs every morning and to do that, I need to run every morning.

James Clear talks about this in the book Atomic Habits, in the chapter "How Your Habits Shape Your Identity (and Vice Versa):

Many people begin the process of changing their habits by focusing on what they want to achieve. This leads us to outcome-based habits. The alternative is to build identity-based habits. With this approach, we start by focusing on who we wish to become.

Clear, James. Atomic Habits (p. 31). Penguin Publishing Group. Kindle Edition.

Later in the book, he talks about how it's harder to stop smoking if you say "I'm a smoker," an identity, than if you say "I smoke," an activity.

Because I'm the type of person that runs every morning or writes every day, it's hard not to do it.

Written down routines: clarity of what to do now

A piece of paper on my desk describes my routine: what activity I should do every hour of the day.

This routine is written down, staring me in the face at virtually all times. It's impossible to ignore and easy to internalize.

A constantly visible routine reminds me when it's time to study or write.

If it's time to study, it's hard for me to do something else on the same desk my written-down routine tells me I should be studying.

Fumio Sasaki talks about his fixed routine in the book Hello, Habits.

Is it stupid to act according to a timetable? I’m single, I live alone, and I love my freedom. Naturally, I used to think it was stupid to create a timetable and to do things according my schedule. A timetable is something that a grade schooler creates before the summer holidays. And I don’t recall ever being able to follow my timetable as planned. What if I suddenly thought of something that I wanted to do? I would hate to limit my freedom with time—or so I thought.
However, if I don’t decide on a time to get up, I’ll end up staying in bed thinking about whether I should get up at that moment or if it’s okay to continue to sleep. If I don’t decide on a time to go to bed at night, there are bound to be times when I get engrossed in a TV drama or a manga and keep telling myself, “Just one more episode.” The psychology of hyperbolic discounting is when one chooses the reward in front of them despite inevitable regrets the next morning, so that’s to be expected.

Sasaki, Fumio. Hello, Habits: A Minimalist's Guide to a Better Life (p. 145). W. W. Norton & Company. Kindle Edition.

I have only so much willpower to ignore my written-down routine.

Long-term passions: doing what we've always loved

I've been doing some activities for a long, long time. Doing them for so long has created grooves in my brain that are now permanent.

Doing an activity consistently for a long time is hard if we don't enjoy it.

Once we've done an activity we love for years and years, though, it's hard not to keep doing it.

I've been reading books almost every day for several years now. I love reading, and it's such a crucial part of my life now.

Sometimes a mentee will ask me, "How do you read so much?" I try to give a helpful answer, such as discussing time management or planning.

But the honest answer is more straightforward, albeit less helpful: reading is just something I do.

In What I Talk About When I Talk About Running, Haruki Murakami talks about his choice of running every day similarly: running suits him.

To tell the truth, I don’t even think there’s that much correlation between my running every day and whether or not I have a strong will. I think I’ve been able to run for more than twenty years for a simple reason: It suits me. Or at least because I don’t find it all that painful. Human beings naturally continue doing things they like, and they don’t continue what they don’t like.

What I Talk About When I Talk About Running (Vintage International) (p. 44). Knopf Doubleday Publishing Group. Kindle Edition.

I read way more than usual while waiting for that 30-hour layover because it's hard not to read.

Prohibiting bad choices: making slipping impossible

I'm a big fan of prohibitions: No Internet, No TV, No Meat, No Alcohol, No Social Media.

There's a piece of paper on my desk that helps me choose what to do in my free time or if I'm off my routines:

• On activities, it says running, writing, guitar, and reading
• On leisure: friends, family, and video games
• On music: jazz, classical, and metal
• On others: piano, programming, and chess

All these options are fun and high-quality ways to spend time.

My prohibitions remove activities I wish I did less off, so I'm only choosing among things I wish I did more of.

It's more taxing to decide not to do something than to ignore something I can't do. Impossibility is the ultimate friction.

Fumio Sasaki explains this in the book Hello, Habits when he discusses his decision not to drink anymore in the section "Quit completely – it's easier":

[..] people with strong willpower don’t get tempted in the first place. For example, let’s say I went to an izakaya bar.
•​To drink
•​To not drink
It isn’t as if I’m choosing not to drink after pondering whether or not to drink alcohol. Instead, I’m in a state where the part where I drink alcohol is colored in gray, and I can’t choose that option in the first place.

Sasaki, Fumio. Hello, Habits: A Minimalist's Guide to a Better Life (p. 90). W. W. Norton & Company. Kindle Edition.

The more my options encompass only the things I want to do, the easier it is to do them.

Conclusion: effortlessly getting back on the horse

Even when I stop doing an activity for a few days, I'll return to it shortly.

By being clear on why I'm doing it, identifying with it, having a clear routine, choosing what I'm passionate about, and prohibiting other options, it's almost inevitable I start doing it again soon.

Each of these principles compounds with each other, maximizing the pull back into the activity.

Taking a break is also a good way to evaluate my activities and see if anything I thought was working great could be improved.

For instance, writing part of this article in the evening allowed me to evaluate it as an alternative to morning sessions.

So when I inevitably fall off my horse, I remind myself that it's okay.

I take my time, enjoy the adjustment, and wait for these principles to get me back on the horse.