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That might be controversial, but it’s also true. If I were asked to choose between having physical or mental health, I would choose physical health. Mental health is downstream from it. Trying to think your way out of overthinking is like trying to sniff your way out of a cocaine addiction, you can’t really change your mind with the mind. You should change it with the body first. Going for a walk will do way more for your mood than sitting for hours and dwelling on it, thinking about how to improve it. If I had to choose between a good night’s sleep or a hard workout, I would choose the workout, because the difference in my mood before and after the session is way greater. And to make it clear, I believe both parts work symbiotically together. But I believe if you don’t have some kind of physical activity in your life and you’re struggling with mental health, you need to look at the physical side before you look at the mental side. That’s the raw material your mental state is going to grow out of. P.S. You don’t need therapy, you need a barbell (and maybe then therapy)

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I’ll be honest, this whole “21 days to build a habit” thing sounded like a joke to me. Until I tried it. It was after the COVID years. I was still doing distance learning because of the war. I had too much free time and I hated it. I needed a change. One day, I heard on a podcast about do anything for 21 days straight and it’ll become a habit. Sounded like a challenge. I wanted to disprove it :) So I did something simple: every morning. 6 AM. Wake up. Headphones on. Run 3 kilometers. First day? Easy. First week? Easy. I didn’t want to miss a day. Week two? That’s when discipline had to kick in. But something weird started happening… I started to enjoy it. A little runner’s high kicked in(it not supposed to at this time). Reinforcement. And it wasn’t just chemical, it was the ritual. Good weather. Mid-may. Nature. Lake. Same crazy people running at 6 AM. Birds. Fresh air. Starting the day right. Isn’t it lovely? I didn’t count the days. I just kept running. For 100 days straight. Not because I was hyped on motivational videos. Not because I’m superhuman. None of that. I kept going because it felt good. I was being rewarded. Sense of progress. And yes, a little hack that actually played a crucial role for me personally, I tracked every run on my watch. Staking and seeing those numbers improve was addictive. By the end of summer, I craved the run. For the next two years, I ran through snow, rain, and mud. Not because it was fun, but because it built character. (I’ll talk more about that in the next post) Here’s the real take on this story: You don’t need to hate your habits and grind through them to be “disciplined.” You can build systems. Stack rewards. Reinforce the behavior. That’s what makes habits stick. P.S. Attached are my actual stats from back then—2-3 years ago. Every number is real lol.

Once upon a time, there was a great scientist who had never seen the world. He was a formidable expert on everything under the sun, for he never took his eyes off his books or his research. In his studies, he often encountered considerable obstacles, but he always overcame them through perseverance—either in the library or deep in thought and calculation. But then came a riddle that the scientist could not solve, no matter how hard he tried. Worn down by hopelessness and hardship, he finally gave in to the persuasion of his friends and acquaintances and set off on a long journey—to distract both himself and his mind. Far, far away from his laboratory, library, and university, he decided to cross a vast lake. Finding a boatman, he settled into the boat for the crossing. Being a quiet man by nature, he sat in silence for a long time, watching the reflections of the summer sun ripple across the waves. But eventually, boredom overcame his patience. He began speaking about the lands they were passing through: the origin of the mountains, seismic activity, climatic zones, the history of the country, and the settlements surrounding the lake. Then, having listened to his own voice long enough, he started questioning the boatman—about the local flora and fauna, the chemical composition of the lake water, his family, and even his family tree. The boatman, a friendly soul, tried to answer every question, but could not provide a single satisfying or proper response. He was, after all, a simple man—uneducated, one of the people. The scientist persisted with his stream of questions. At first, he was bewildered by the boatman’s ignorance. Then he became indignant. And finally, he grew to despise him. — How is this even possible? Do you, in hell, know nothing at all? The boatman said nothing. He only looked the scientist in the eyes. They sat in silence as the boat slowly made its way toward the shore. But just as they neared it, a violent storm struck—so fierce that it raised not just waves but walls of water. Seeing the vessel was doomed, the boatman said: