How I tricked myself into doing sports every day

It’s a Monday morning, and as I sit down to work, my Apple Watch gently buzzes on my wrist and plays a familiar chime. I glance at it as it lights up with the words: “David finished a workout.” I quickly tap to see what he did and sigh with relief when I learn that he only burned 60 calories with a short stretch.

Two hours later, I get another notification—this time, David walked 2.3 kilometers in 35 minutes, burning another 126 calories. Damn, I really have to decide on what sport I’m going to do later. He’s getting ahead again.

At 4 PM, I get the final blow. My watch tells me David finished an hour-long gym session, burning 637 calories.

I check the scoreboard: he has 600 points; I have 54.

I briefly curse my past self—the one who thought it’d be a great idea to start a competition with David.

But I shake it off.

Alright, that’s it, I think. I’m going wall climbing today.

I pack my backpack, and at 6 PM, I hop on my scooter and fight my way through the traffic to the boulder gym. I know if I just climb for two hours, I’ll be okay.

During the first hour, I nervously check my watch every five minutes to see how much more I need—but eventually, I forget about it.

Two hours later, sweaty, exhausted, and covered in chalk, I hit the Finish Workout button and tap on the scoreboard. It’s a tie. 600 points for both.

Phew, I let out a sigh and smile with satisfaction. Not today, David. Not today!

As I savor my glory, I know that 12 hours from now, I will question my life decisions once again.

But that’s the future. Tonight, I can ride my scooter home with a smirk on my face.

Later that night my watch gently buzzes again. A familiar tiny badge appears—an award I earn every day: Longest Move Streak.

Today, it’s 100 days.

But wait a minute…

How did I get here? And most importantly…

The Card That Changed Everything

It’s a warm November night. Some upbeat electronic music hums in the background as we sit in a loose circle in our living room.

“Pick a card,” David says, handing me the deck.

It’s his birthday party, so I play along. I draw one and read it out loud to the 12 people watching with curious smiles.

I pause—long enough for the room to go quiet.

And then, out of nowhere, a memory ambushes me.

It suddenly hits me. It’s been a year since I wrote that goal, and I hadn’t done much about it—except for the occasional exercise and the few times I went climbing or hiking.

And I’m already 34.

“I want to get fit,” I turn to David. “Can you ask me every Sunday if I did at least three workouts this week?”

He nods with a smile—of course he does. He’s one of the fittest guys I know. He’ll enjoy holding me accountable.

I still need two workouts to hit my weekly goal, and the couch has never looked more seductive.

Two sessions in two days? That’s not motivation—that’s masochism.

But then I remember the smug look David will give me if I flake.

Nope. Can’t have that. Losing his respect would sting more than sore muscles ever could.

So, with a dramatic sigh, I open the Freeletics app and hit Start on an upper-body workout.

The next day is a bit easier—just one workout left to hit my weekly goal. I decide to rip the Band-Aid off and get it done first thing in the morning.

As soon as David steps out of his room, I pounce.

“Guess who’s done with all three workouts?” I say, smug as hell.

He smiles and gives me a genuine high-five.

The fear of having to say I didn’t do it is worse than doing a hundred burpees.

So I do the only logical thing: I just do the workouts.

After a few weeks, I realize: I’ve successfully tricked myself into building a habit.

And it all came down to two simple truths:

A Fitness War Breaks Out

I join the Apple Watch cult, when my brother surprises me with one for Christmas. David has one. My brother has one. And now, I have one too.

For a week, all we do is walkie-talkie each other from the living room.

I absentmindedly accept without reading the rules.

The next day, I’m at the kitchen table, halfway through emails, when I spot David strolling out the door in full gym mode—grinning like he already knows something I don’t.

But I’m not worried. I’ve already knocked out a workout and racked up nearly 300 points. I’ve got this.

Then, a few hours later, I check the app.

By the time I finish work, it’s 6 PM. It’s dark, and rain starts steadily tapping on the window—stripping me of my two backup plans.

Now, I don’t want to drive to the climbing gym or go for a run.

I look at the tiny 7-meter pool in our garden and form a desperate plan.

It’s raining, but it’s still warm—it’s Bali, after all. I throw on my swim trunks, jump in, and spend close to an hour swimming in circles.

By the 148th lap, I finally hit 1 km.

My points jump to 584.

I go back in for a few extra rounds until I hit 600. Max points.

I sit on the edge of the pool with a smug smile as I hit Finish on my watch.

I can already imagine David’s face when he gets the notification.

But I don’t have to imagine for long.

I hear the slide of a door, and suddenly, he’s in the garden, staring at me with a what-the-hell-is-happening expression.

Ten minutes later, I hear grunts and groans coming from his room.

Then, a notification: David finished a core workout.

He emerges from his room—sweaty, grinning, and ready for war.

We tell each other not to take it so seriously. We say we’re just doing it for fun.

We lie.

A week later, it’s still neck and neck.

Both of us end up with max points, and neither of us is willing to blink first.

The Fitness War Goes Nuclear

“This was a crazy but fun week,” we agree.

Then I say the words that will haunt me:

David smirks. “If we competed for a whole year?”

I nod. “Exactly.”

“I’m in,” he says. “But what does the winner get?”

“Hmm, I’m not sure…” I hesitate.

David, without missing a beat:

“Deal.”

No hesitation this time. We shake on it like two gentlemen about to ruin each other’s free time for the next twelve months.

But as the adrenaline fades and the deal sinks in, a quiet panic creeps in:

For David, this will be a light tweak to an already ridiculous routine. A “sure, I’ll throw in an extra stretch” kind of thing.

For me? A complete lifestyle overhaul.

What was I thinking?

I shook his hand. It’s official. There’s no backing out now.

Well…

I guess I’ll have no choice but to become the kind of person who can pull this off.

Is it still a tie?

“So… after 100 days, are we still tied?”

Well… not exactly. But it’s close.

What happened, and who’s in the lead?

You’ll have to find that out in my next email. I’ll also dive into what happened to my body after 100 days of consistent exercise, how I found myself doing stretching exercises on a public bus in the Philippines and the third and biggest lesson I learned about habit-building.

See you soon,

Marci

P.S. Thanks for being a subscriber. And if you own an Apple watch and want to get motivated by my workout notifications, add me at [email protected].

P.P.S While writing this email I realized how few photos I have of my fitness journey. So from now on I will post my workouts more regularly on Instagram. Find me there if you are interested: @whereismarci.