This week, I changed my mind.
I went back to my old gym.
Six months ago, leaving felt like the right decision. Family life had been demanding; I needed a change, and I wanted a fresh start. So I cancelled my membership, took a few weeks away from exercising, and then joined a different gym.
On paper, it was everything I thought I wanted.
It was beautiful. A bigger gym floor. A lovely pool. A gorgeous restaurant. My friend is a member. The sort of place that looked as though it would motivate me to go.
But something was missing.
I hadn’t appreciated how much the little things mattered. The familiar faces. Walking through the door and recognising people. Knowing where everything was. Feeling like I belonged.
There was something else too. My old gym was ten minutes away. The new one was seventeen. Seven extra minutes doesn’t sound like much, but somehow it created just enough friction to make it easier to talk myself out of going.
Over time, I drifted.
Last week I realised it had been seven weeks since I’d been.
So instead of forcing myself to try harder, I stopped and asked a different question.
What if this simply isn’t the right fit?
This week I rejoined my old gym.
As I walked through the doors, Jenny on reception looked up and said, “You’re back!”
The trainers recognised me. I knew exactly where to go. I didn’t have to think. I just got on with my workout.
Driving home afterwards, with my legs already reminding me I’d worked hard, I realised how happy I felt.
Recently, I read something that has stayed with me.
Most decisions aren’t walls.
They’re doors.
You can walk through them, rummage through them, and learn. And if it turns out it isn’t the right room, you can just walk back again.
Somehow, we convince ourselves that changing our mind means we’ve failed.
It doesn’t.
Sometimes changing your mind means you’ve learned something valuable.
I’ve learned that I don’t need the fanciest gym.
I need somewhere that makes it easy to become the person I want to be.
The place where I actually show up will always beat the place that simply looks impressive.
It made me wonder where else we stay committed to something simply because we’ve already chosen it.
A business strategy. A wardrobe. A friendship.
A version of ourselves.
Perhaps the bravest thing isn’t just getting on with it and sticking with something that no longer fits.
Perhaps it’s giving yourself permission to walk back through the door.