As the assessor from the school board quizzed me about my pastimes and interests, I knew well enough to omit a few details. Bleeding all over the place during the interview was bad enough. If he knew about half the moronic things I did with my siblings, there’s no way I’d have qualified for the gifted program.
Because growing up, we had all sorts of bad habits that got us into trouble. Indeed, no matter how hard my poor mother tried to steer her eight children in the right direction, we seemed determined to return home for dinner muddy, bloody or both.
For example, I had the bad habit of not wearing sunscreen in the summer. Without fail, a fun day at the beach would lead to deep burns, followed by my skin peeling off a week later. We used to see who could remove the largest strip of skin without it breaking. Kind of like trying to peel an orange in one shot, only much, much grosser.
I also had the bad habit of running barefoot through the fields and forests around our house in the tiny town of Port Albert. Inevitably, I’d return home and beg Mom to bust out the tweezers and pull thorns from my feet.
Those outings also often involved me and my cousins tearing through areas filled with poison ivy. And regardless of how many times those adventures resulted in oozy, itchy, angry rashes, we’d be back playing in those places again before the last blister popped.
Another bad habit I had was an inability to back down from a dare. “Double dares” were even harder to resist. And “triple dog dares?” Forget about it.
Whether it was peeing on an electric fence or sticking my tongue on a metal pole in February, it didn’t take much for me to succumb to peer pressure.
One dare I readily accepted stands out as particularly idiotic. On a hot summer day back at Grandma’s beach, I was playing with a handful of my cousins in the nearby gully. (I’ll go out on a limb and say we were all probably sunburnt, had thorns in our feet, and at least one of us was going home with a poison ivy rash.)
As we hopped between rocks and logs while mosquitoes ate us alive, we happened upon an exceptionally mucky pit of clay. “I dare you to stick your head in there,” one of my cousins taunted.
I wish I could say there was more goading and peer pressure than that. There wasn’t. The muddy gauntlet had been thrown down, and I picked it up without a second thought.
Steadying myself on a fallen tree, I moved into position to perform what may be history’s stupidest headstand ever. The others watched from the gully bank, delighted to have such an easily manipulated clown of a cousin.
Of course, the second I dunked my head into the clay, those jerks bolted, howling in laughter as they fled down the trails.
Nobody ditches Josh, I thought, pulling my head from the mud. The chase was on.
However, as I sprinted after them, I began to feel the weight of my bad decisions. Literally. You see, as a child, I had a thick, curly head of hair. And those luxurious locks proved exceptionally effective at trapping massive amounts of heavy mud.
I was essentially wearing a giant clay helmet.
Racing down the trail, I started to lurch to the left and to the right as my pencil neck struggled to support the hefty headpiece. I really need to stop accepting dares, I thought as I zigzagged along.
In the end, I didn’t catch up to them. Probably for the best. I’m sure seeing me staggering through the bushes with my head encased in clay would only have added fuel to the inevitable mockery.
I know not wearing sunscreen will mean a painful burn. That ordering another bottle of wine means my body will hate me in the morning. That putting off that assignment is going to result in a stressful all-nighter. That accepting moronic dares to dunk my head in a pit of clay is going to lead to trouble.
So if I know the negative consequences of my bad habits, why is it so difficult to kick them? And on the flip side, why do I struggle to maintain good habits when I know what the positive consequences will be? If I know going for a run or fixing that leaky faucet will make me feel amazing and productive, why don’t I get my butt off the couch?
Part of the problem is that our behaviour tends to be governed by effects that are immediate and close at hand. Sunscreen is greasy and annoying. Nuking a frozen pizza is easier than making a salad. The deadline isn’t for another week and there are new episodes of The Mandalorian airing. Too often, quick and easy trumps pragmatic and prudent.
Meanwhile, habits form through repetition. The more they become part of your routine, the harder they are to break. On top of that, your self-control is often competing against a powerful opponent: dopamine. As habits form, your brain releases this pleasure-causing chemical at the sight of a doughnut or cigarette, incentivizing bad behaviour.
Sometimes those habits fall in the annoying-but-ultimately-harmless category, like chewing your nails. But others can be downright dangerous — like smoking or shoving your head into clay — making it important to find ways to shake them.
Habits would certainly play a big role after my cancer diagnosis. A few, I needed to change. The toll the chemo took on my liver meant I had to give up alcohol. I had to bid farewell to fast food as well, since a dodgy burger could wreak havoc on my weakened immune system. I also had to develop some new good habits, from going to bed earlier and washing my hands more frequently to building my meds into the daily schedule.
Breaking bad habits — and creating good ones
Changing ingrained behaviour is tough, but not impossible. Here are a few ideas to get you started.
Set the stage — Trying to steer clear of junk food? Skip the chips aisle at the grocery store and stock the fridge with healthy fruit instead for the next time you get the munchies. Want to make running a regular part of your routine? Invest in a decent pair of shoes and download an app to track your training. Create the conditions for success.
Set realistic goals — Quitting something cold turkey may work for some people, but most of us need a more step-by-step approach. Whatever your habit, don’t sabotage yourself by setting unrealistic goals. For example, eating healthy is a great habit to develop, but a cheat day during the week may actually help make it sustainable. Ease into it.
Train your brain — Habits become so automatic that we often don’t even notice when we’re engaged in them. Without realizing it, you’re unconsciously slouching or polishing off an entire bag of chips. Mindfulness helps you switch off the autopilot and puts you back in the driver’s seat. Practise being present and aware of your actions, especially when you know you’re going to be in a situation that will trigger your bad habits.
Lean on your team — Enlist the help of a friend to keep you on track with your habit-breaking or habit-forming goals. Find someone to be your accountability buddy, and ask him or her to regularly check in on your progress. Or have them take a more hands-on role. Want to stop cracking your knuckles? Agree to pay your girlfriend a buck for every infraction. Need some more motivation go for a run in the morning? Do it with a friend to make getting out of bed easier.
Remind yourself of the rewards and consequences — We humans have notoriously short memories, forgetting how painful that sunburn was or how awful that fifth bottle of beer made you feel the next day. Whether it’s having a friend remind you that pizza gives you a stomach ache or hanging a photo of you crossing the finish line to remember how amazing it feels to complete a race, find ways to keep the aftermath of your actions top of mind.
Next: Chapter 8 — The cannonball: What Meghan in the mud taught me about letting go
