Kristin and I joined the YMCA four Januaries ago. Right about this time. It’s within walking distance of our house, for goodness sake.
It couldn’t be more convenient. A no brainer.
I pre-paid for the first year. Because, you know, discounts.
And yet, for the entirety of 2015, between the two of us, I bet we used the facility five times?
The following January, I made a commitment to actually get something out of it. I began taking spin classes and lifting weights a couple times per week. My routine ebbed and flowed but by the end of the year, I was in ‘as gooda shape’ as I’d been in a long time.
Then, last year, I started searching for shortcuts.
I told myself, “I can do this from home one day … fit it into my schedule here. And then if I just do this … and tweak this a little bit … then I won’t have to do this …”
You can imagine where that went.
Yeah, every bit of nowhere.
For the first three or four months of 2017, I walked the path of least resistance. Finally, I ‘fessed up’ to what I already know to be true in other areas of my life. The only way to get to somewhere meaningful is to show up and do the work.
In this case, push around some heavy weight.
Another year has come and gone and here it is, once again — January. Except this time I’m sitting at the registration desk at Gold’s Gym. Kristin made the move late last year, wanting to leverage the accountability of working out with neighborhood friends.
Good for her.
So, our “Family” membership at the Y was only getting singular use.
I was reluctant to move, if for no other reason than the hassle of quitting the old place. But the morning of New Year’s Eve, I pulled the trigger.
Because, you know, discounts.
Besides, now not only can I walk to the gym but I don’t even have to cross a busy street. I mean come on. Score.
The following Friday, I found myself sitting face to face with a big ol’ dude named “Lace.” This guy looked like he’d thrown around a weight or two in his time.
He asked why I joined “the gym” … what some of my goals were.
I told him, “Yeah, that’s a good question. I’ve no fantasies about becoming a body builder. I’m looking for functional strength. Health. Energy. I want to be able to keep up with my kids. Do laps around them even. I wanna be able to get up off the ground without my back and hips barking at me. Above all though, I want to be able drink beer and still feel good about taking my shirt off in the summer.”
Of course, I omitted that last part, but the thought did cross my mind 🙂
I showed him the workouts (printed off and written down) that I’d been doing for the better part of the past year.
“Where’d you get those? he questioned.
“Internet,” I told him.
He looked perplexed. Squeamish even. “Yeah, uhh, I wouldn’t recommend doing that,” he advised.
We moved on to the scale and then the 3D body scanner. All this, part of my bag of goodies for joining the gym at the right time of year.
Because, you know, New Years Resolutions.
This was the part I was most looking forward to. The ‘diagnosis.’ You see, as a former competitive athlete, I’ve worked with some of the best. Strength coaches whose only job was to turn young men into high performance machines. As such, I’ve done it all.
Truth is, I actually enjoy being coached.
But when I turned the page on that chapter in life, I turned and ran — not walked — the other way. Finally freedom from accountability, after so many years of discipline.
As a result, I haven’t worked with a ‘coach,’ in that capacity, for over 10 years. Because, you know, self-sufficiency and all.
A few Youtube videos here and there and I’m good to go.
Except I wasn’t “good.”
At least not as “good” as I could have been.
I don’t know if you’ve ever seen your body on a 3D scanner. You kinda look like an unbalanced lump of clay, to put it kindly. Like the master potter had a few too many whiskeys right before it was time to throw you into the kiln.
My body scan revealed imbalance. My entire left side — bicep, forearm, thigh, calf etc.. is about 1–2 inches smaller (on average) than my right. Oh, and there may have been a small love handle or two that crept in the picture as well.
Because, you know, beer and such.
It was eye opening. Not that I had illusions that it’d be much different. But there is something very powerful about actually grasping the visual.
The visual of both what IS and what COULD BE.
Walking out of the gym last Friday afternoon — after my hour consult with Lace — I had both.
I had a goal.
I had an actual plan.
Furthermore, I now have the accountability of the February 9th follow up, to spur me into taking meaningful action.
And that got me to thinking …
This is exactly the same thing that we do for homeowners.
Our first “meetings” usually don’t last long. Rarely more than an hour. Tops.
They want a superior outcome for themselves every bit as much as we want it for them.
Because, you know, who wouldn’t?
So, we can cut to the chase.
Having already identified “what not to do,” we can immediately start creating a new possibility for what their home sale result could be.
From there, we turn it over to our team of experts who show them the where and the how to breathe life into that new possibility.
Of course, this is where the rubber meets the road. Experience shows that when it comes to maximizing the profit from your home sale, there are no shortcuts, no discounts, no aimless resolutions.
Because, you know …
There is but one path to get to somewhere meaningful.
And that is to show up and do the work.
P.S. The book package is a perfect introduction for anyone who wants to get more information about making their real estate goals a reality in 2018. Forward this email to a friend or email me directly and we’d be happy to get one out in the mail to you.
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