How I said NO to a shitty lifestyle.
How I said NO to a shitty lifestyle
If you know me, you know I’m a big believer in practising what you preach.
I’m the first to admit I’m not perfect, but it’s hard to fool anyone these days… not that I would want to. I can tell you from my experience working in the health and fitness industry for more than 15 years: clients can tell when you’re not genuine. For example, you can’t tell your clients they need to stop drinking while you’re going out partying on the weekends. It’s not going to fly, and it’s not going to do anyone (including yourself) any favours.
I’ve sacrificed a lot in my life, but I’ve done it without regret. The sacrifices I make are for myself and my own health, but also to make accountability a built-in lifestyle choice each day. I try to be a role model. Not only for my clients, but for my friends and family — in particular, my young nephews who are now growing up in a world seemingly devoid of strong, healthy, responsible male role models.
So, now, I do my best each day, and teach others how to do the same. But the journey to get here hasn’t always been smooth sailing.
The reality of a shitty lifestyle hit me hard
Like many of us, I spent weekends in my 20s drinking with my mates, whether at the pub, bars or even the regular Sunday barbecues. I travelled a lot, I definitely enjoyed myself but each time, I returned in much worse shape than when I left. Where it really started to hit home was in 2008, I took off on what basically turned into a five-month bender through Europe and North America. I returned absolutely smashed. This is where I first began to question my behaviours and piece together my heath puzzle.
I got some testing done, and after multiple GP visits dealing with several incompetent doctors, I was given a diagnosis of chronic fatigue — which, to this day, I still question. I won’t say I learned my lesson from this yet, but I did start to consider cleaning up my life a bit.
My performance and motivation was non-existent
It wasn’t until I returned from another stint overseas, not long after I turned 30, that the reality of my lifestyle really hit home. While I definitely wasn’t drinking as much as I used to, the combination of poor nutritional choices, drinking alcohol, a nasty bout of Montezuma’s Revenge from Mexico, chronic stress both physically and emotionally — on top of dealing with the breakdown of a serious relationship — it all finally caught up to me. And landed me flat on my ass.
Within a few weeks of returning home, I had landed a new job working in one of the premier personal training studios in Melbourne. However, I was struggling to stay awake during the day. I found myself leaning against walls just to stay standing. I was a shell of myself, mentally and physically, and everyone around me noticed.
A few more weeks went by, I just figured I’d just improve naturally but not much had changed. I was still struggling to perform at work, I couldn’t bring myself to train, and my motivation was non-existent.
One day, a deep conversation with one of my colleagues pushed me to run some blood tests, and I began to seek answers. When they reviewed my blood work and bluntly said, “How are you still alive?”, that comment finally opened my eyes to how bad of a state my body was in. I knew it was me, and only me, who was responsible for the position I’d let my body and health deteriorate to — and I was the only one who could make the change.
The sacrifices began, but saying no was hard
It was here where the sacrifices began, as I began further educating myself about my health and why I ended up where I was. It was clear that I had to make some drastic lifestyle changes.
I began to completely clear my diet of processed foods, sugars, gluten and dairy, which was a significant challenge, to say the least. But, knowing that I, alone, was responsible for improving my health, I had to learn to say no, and that was the hardest part.
I went cold turkey off alcohol, and this required a lot of no in my vocabulary, as drinking was a massive part of my social world. Though I’d already began to wind back my drinking over the last few years, saying no was incredibly difficult — especially when your mates were constantly offering up a tempting cold beer on a sunny afternoon.
But having that one beer would bring physical repercussions that far outweighed the momentary pleasure it brought. I’d feel hungover for a week. The poor sleep, depressive mood and general lethargy and fatigue were destroying my ability to function at any reasonable level on a day to day basis.
And, yeah, I had to sacrifice the good bits, too. Eventually, a realisation hit me that I was drifting apart from my mates, who were some genuinely great blokes. I had to sacrifice the big nights out, choosing to be the designated driver who sat drinking mineral waters while everyone else tried the new craft beer. Eventually, I stopped attending and stopped being invited, as I’d always leave early anyway. I wear full responsibility for this, and that part of it sucks.
But, the truth was, I just couldn’t keep going the way I was going. And my transformation to wellbeing was worth anything I had to sacrifice to achieve it.
I forged the path I wanted to take
There were many days, moments and hours when I had two paths in front of me: either I continued down my usual path and watched my health further deteriorate, or I took responsibly for my choices and placed accountability on my actions for the greater good.
My old lifestyle was hindering my ability to live life, and I have no doubt that I’d be suffering from something much worse than chronic fatigue had I continued on that path. I’ve learned that my body has low tolerance for poor choices, especially when it comes to alcohol and late nights. Had I lived another decade that way, I don’t even want to imagine what my quality of life would be like.
It took a long time to get my body back and to feel like myself again. I didn’t touch a drop of alcohol for more than four and a half years, far longer than I ever planned to stay off it. Even today, I simply choose not to use it. Instead, I choose to be accountable and take full responsibility for my health, making small daily choices that are positive instead of harmful.
And I did it because I knew the life I wanted to live: thriving, healthy, successful and happy. Now, I’m living it.
If this resonates, follow in my footsteps
One of my favourite lines is: If it takes less than two minutes, get off your fucking ass and just do it.
It’s something I try to live by. You, and only you, are responsible for your actions — and on the positive side, this means you’re in full control of your results. The little decisions we make on a day to day basis add up to how we look, how we feel, how we perform, and most importantly, what we can provide for those around us.
So if you’re feeling the same sense of lost, lacking or losing that I felt for a very long time, there is still hope. I forged a path to thriving again, and now I help men do the same.
I’m Andy Lucas, Men’s Health and Wellbeing Coach, and I take responsibility for my wellbeing through small, habitual choices each day. What’s hard at first becomes easier, simpler and built-in when you start with an actionable game plan, and I'm here to build one for you.
Let’s start with a chat to see where you’re at. Today, you can take that first small, accountable step towards improving your life. Book a call with me to see what your future can look like.
ANDY LUCAS
MEN’S HEALTH + WELLBEING COACH
From naturopathic services to men’s health coaching, Andy Lucas is on a mission to improve the lives of men, starting with the foundations of health and wellbeing. Utilising a no-BS framework titled The Healthy Man Method, Andy guides men to optimise their wellbeing through six steps that bring it back to the foundations of health — cutting through fads with an action plan that works. A certificated Naturopath (Bachelor of Health Sciences – Naturopathy) and Personal Trainer (Certificate III & IV - Personal Training), Andy helps men become free of physical challenges and limitations, so they can better succeed in their experience of life. Find out more here.