I did Kegels on the gym floor today.
Not because I wanted to.
Not because I felt strong.
Not because there was anything heroic about it.
I did them because I said I would keep moving.
I spent several years behind a keyboard and snacking on my emotions.
While they were pretty tasty, they were not low calorie.
You can imagine the resulting lack of physique or shape.
Not to mention, being a man who was then turning 50, and a dad of two young boys, I knew I had to get to work, or my time on this earth would be severely limited.
So I made a commitment: to be a person who moves.
A commitment to move every day — even if the movement is so internal no one can see it.
Even if I look ridiculous. Even if it feels like failure in slow motion.
Today, that meant laying on the floor of my favorite gym, quietly clenching for my future.
And no, it wasn’t cool.
But it was real.
It was honest.
And it counted.
I’m not training for a marathon.
I’m not trying to win a bathing suit contest.
I’m trying to stay connected —
to my body, to the people I love, to the life that keeps calling me forward.
Which means that sometimes, showing up looks like sweat and power and pushing through.
And other times, it looks like a back injury, a yoga mat, and a desperate attempt to activate a few half-forgotten muscles.
Cue the video montage...
Oh wait — I said I’d spare you that horror.
Here’s what I’ve learned to believe:
Our comfort with discomfort is directly relational to our growth, our success.
Not pain tolerance.
Not hustle.
Willingness.
Willingness to stay in the awkward, quiet, ordinary work that no one else sees.
Because every time we choose to keep our word to ourselves — when it would be easier not to — we build something.
Maybe not abs.
Maybe not performance.
But trust.
And that might be the strongest thing we can carry.
→ What’s the quiet rebellion you’re fighting today?
I’d love to hear it. Hit reply or drop it in the comments.
And if you want to see the 60-second reel this came from, it’s right here:
Instagram Post →
Until then —
Keep showing up. Even for the smallest movements.
— Scott
a quietly clenching human being
Scott Mocha is the founder of Impossible Path and author of A Row With Two Chairs: Creating a Life Worth Saving. He helps people reconnect to their true voice and path — not with hype, but with presence.
I know about snacking on my emotions. I admire your courage for putting it all out there, Scott.