I Am Completely Out of My Routine Right Now

The truth is pretty simple: right now, I am completely out of my routine.

I have not gone running in four months. In 2025, I still managed just under 500 running kilometers. In 2026, I am at 0 so far. I am eating badly. I have gained weight. My Whoop Age has jumped from 5 years younger to 6 months older. And a lot of what I built in 2025 with sweat, discipline, and consistency feels like I have torn it down again. Not completely, maybe. But enough that it hurts.

If you read my posts, you might associate me with routines, discipline, data, health tracking, Whoop, Apple Health, running, and optimization. Right now, very little of that is left.

I Knew It and Still Did It

The hardest part is not that I do not know what the right thing is. I know that very well. The hardest part is this: my brain immediately knew that many of these decisions were wrong. But my mind, my will, was often just not strong enough in those moments.

I did not make the wrong choices out of ignorance. I knew better and still made them.

And that does not only show up with junk food or sweets. Sometimes it starts with something as simple as getting up and going to bed. Yes, even going to bed can feel harder than just letting the streaming service keep running. Episode after episode. One more. Then another one. Until you finally look at the time and realize it is past midnight again. Sleep wasted again. Once again doing exactly what you already knew would hurt you the next day.

I chose the comfortable, easy option far too often. Not because I thought it was a good decision. But because I knew it would move me further away from what I actually want, and I still did it.

Instead of putting on my running shoes, I pressed play.
Instead of making something decent to eat, I reached for junk food.
Instead of saying no once, I ate sweets even though I knew I would regret it afterwards.

And yes, somewhere in the background I could already see Bryan Johnson’s disappointed face every single time. A little ironic, a little exaggerated maybe. But true at the core: I knew I was working against what I actually want.

But in those moments, knowing it was not enough.

I was missing the motivation. Maybe the energy too. Maybe both.

Sometimes I look in the mirror and I am honestly disappointed in myself. Not just because of a few extra kilos, but because I can see my own decisions in it. I see someone who knew better and still kept taking the easy way out. There are moments when I can barely stand myself for that. That is what makes it so hard to watch yourself like this.

What is almost absurd is that without training as a fixed part of my routine, it has already happened several times in the last few weeks that I have pinched or pulled something during some completely stupid movement. And then I suddenly shuffle around the apartment like an old man, as if I injured myself by breathing. That pulls me down even more mentally. But at least then I have a wonderful excuse ready: I need to take it easy.

How You Slowly Slip

I could start collecting excuses now. Too much work. Too little sleep. Stress. Daily life. No rhythm. And some of that is certainly true. But if I am honest, that would still only be half the truth. The other half is: I let myself slide. Not dramatically. Not overnight. Not with one big bang. But slowly. A few bad decisions here, a few comfortable ones there, and at some point you realize you have moved pretty far away from your own standards.

That is exactly what happened.

And now I sit here, look at the data, my weight, my fitness, my Whoop Age, and think: great. Everything you worked so hard for in 2025, you managed to damage again in a surprisingly short time.

That hurts because progress is never free. It costs time, energy, sacrifice, repetition, and nerves. And setbacks? They often come much easier. A bit of comfort here, a bit of self-deception there, and suddenly you are much further back than you thought.

I Am Not Alone in This

At the same time, I also know this: a lot of people out there feel exactly the same. And maybe that hits me so hard because I often recognize myself in other people too.

When I get squeezed into the Dubai Metro at 5 p.m. with everyone else, I see the same thing in so many faces: tiredness. Exhaustion. Emptiness. People who just want to get home. And I often think that many of them, just like me, probably do not have the energy in the evening to work out, go running, or lift weights. Not because they are lazy. But because they are empty.

I understand that. I have compassion for that.

But does that make it any better?

Unfortunately, not really.

It does not make my Whoop Age go down. It does not make the number on the scale any smaller. It does not give me the last four months back. And it does not undo the missed runs, the junk food, the sweets, or the wasted evenings.

So what am I trying to say with this post?

If I am honest: I do not really know.

Maybe this is not a post with a clean conclusion. Not a post with five clear tips. Not a post with one perfect insight at the end. Maybe it is just an honest moment. One where I do not pretend to have everything under control.

Because right now, I do not.

Maybe the actual message is just this: if you are completely out of it right now too, you are not alone. If you have disappointed yourself, if you have not lived up to your own standards, if you know exactly what you need to change but still feel stuck, then you are not the only one.

I am there too.

But I also do not want this state to become the new normal. I do not want to accept that a few bad months quietly turn into a whole lost year. I do not want to pretend that this is just how it is. It is not. It is a setback. One I need to admit to myself.

And that is probably why I am writing this at all.

Not because I am already back where I want to be. But because I am not. And because I want to put it in black and white for myself that I see it. That I understand it. That I do not want to keep lying to myself.

I Will Come Back

I will come back.

Not perfectly. Not overnight. And probably not because some miracle burst of motivation suddenly falls out of the sky. But because coming back usually starts with something much smaller: turning the stream off. Going to bed earlier. Putting my shoes back on. Leaving the junk food alone once in a while. Not everything at once. But something. And then the next thing.

That is how I will come back. Step by step. Run by run. Better decision by better decision.

Best regards,
Joe