Content?!

I was speaking to one of my long-term clients recently — an avid fan of this newsletter — and asked him if there was anything he wanted to focus on in the New Year.

Before I get to his answer, a small aside. I ask people this question because I’m genuinely interested in what they want for themselves outside of the gym as much as inside it. Sure, it’s helpful to know if someone has a deadlift goal or wants their first pull-up, but connection in our space is about more than that. Knowing what else is going on in your life helps me understand you. So, just FYI — never be afraid of an overshare.

Anyway. He didn’t even pause before answering.

He said he didn’t have anything he wanted to focus on, because he was genuinely content with his life and had no desire to change anything.

This absolutely floored me.

The idea of being content — of not feeling like you need to do more, be better, or chase something different to fill an internal void you seem to have been born with — feels almost unfathomable to me. I was immediately envious. And honestly, a bit in awe. How peaceful it must be to move through life like that, when my own internal landscape feels so often defined by anxiety.

I’ve been reflecting on his words over the last few days, and the more I think about it, the more they make sense for him. From the outside, his life looks pretty fucking great. So why wouldn’t he feel content?

And then it hit me: if I were listening to someone describe my life, I’d probably think it sounded pretty incredible too.

So why doesn’t it feel that way?

I think back to my life before business ownership. Before the gym. Before all of this. I remember feeling deeply unsettled and anxious — like I wasn’t trying hard enough, like I was complacent, like I wasn’t making any real effort to explore my potential (whatever that meant at the time).

When I made some big changes — leaving my job, leaving my relationship, going all-in on this thing you’re now all a part of — something shifted. It felt like effort. Like momentum. Like striving. I was still anxious and overwhelmed, but it was different. It felt justified. I’d bitten off more than I could chew, sure, but at least I wasn’t stuck wondering if I was doing enough.

If you’d told me five years ago that this would be my life, I wouldn’t have believed you. What I have now is what I always wanted. And I think past-me would assume that future-me would feel nothing but pride and contentment about that.

And sometimes I do. But those moments feel fleeting — little glimmers — among a much louder background noise of feeling like I should be doing more. Or better. Or differently.

Most mornings I wake up with a sense of panic, like I’m trapped under something heavy (besides the cats and my weighted blanket). Unless I throw myself headfirst into a highly productive, wildly distracting day of work and training, those thoughts tend to pin me down. I get stuck in this heightened state of second-guessing, wondering how I can feel so incapable of living a life that was once my absolute pipe dream.

Lately, I’ve felt like I’m acting a role — like at any moment someone is going to tap me on the shoulder and say, hey… you don’t actually know what the fuck you’re doing, do you?

I don’t know why I’m like this (and trust me, I’ve explored it). But if someone asked me what my focus for 2026 is, I think it has to be learning how to find some peace with the life I already have. Because on paper, it looks pretty fucking dope.

This isn’t a cry for help. I have a therapist. I have incredibly supportive friends. I know I don’t need to wear a mask of sanity to be accepted, in the same way that I don’t expect that from anyone else.

I’m honoured when people I love are open and vulnerable with me — so I’m trying to believe it’s okay for me to do the same.

(Obviously second-guessing that as soon as I hit publish.)

It would be weirdly entitled to think that I’m the only person who carries these constant thoughts of not-enough-ness, so I’m offering this piece as a question — and maybe a quiet search for camaraderie — for anyone in the process of setting intentions for the year ahead.

Is there space for you to reflect not only on what you want to achieve, but on how you want to feel?

I, for one, would love to feel even a little of the contentment my aforementioned client seems to carry so effortlessly.