Why Real Progress Doesn’t Feel Like Progress at First

You’ve probably felt it before: that moment of hesitation when you know what you should do… but it’s uncomfortable.

The workout you’re dreading.
The meal prep you keep putting off.
The check-in message from your coach you haven’t answered yet.

Not because you don’t care.
But because doing the right thing—especially consistently—can be really hard.

The Stoic philosopher Epictetus once said,

“If you want to improve, be content to be thought foolish and stupid.”

In other words:
Real change requires humility.
It requires us to become a beginner again—to admit we don’t know it all.
To open ourselves up to discomfort, to feedback, to learning.

And that? That doesn’t always feel good.

At Elevate, we see this every day:

• The first-timer walking into the gym, uncertain and unsure.

• The nutrition client unlearning years of misinformation and guilt.

• The athlete realizing their body no longer performs the way it once did.

• The busy parent carving out time for themselves again, one imperfect step at a time.

This work- the real work- isn’t always glamorous.
It’s not always motivating.
It’s not always Instagram-worthy.

And honestly?
It’s not supposed to be.

Like Epictetus also reminded us:

“The philosopher’s lecture hall is a hospital. You don’t walk out feeling healed. You walk out with the soreness of treatment. The sting of medicine. The ache of growth.”

That’s what this journey looks like.

Not perfection.
Not performance.
But practice.

And here’s where coaching comes in:

“You can either figure it out on your own and stumble... or you can talk to someone who has the same shared experiences.”

You don’t need to go it alone.

Sure, you can try to piece it together yourself. Scroll TikTok for tips. Download free workouts. Try another 30-day plan.
But when you work with a coach, someone who’s walked this path, fallen, learned, adjusted—you borrow their experience. You skip the detours. You get to the hard part… with help.

A coach doesn’t just give you workouts.
They give you structure when you’re overwhelmed.
They give you accountability when you’d rather quit.
They give you perspective when progress feels invisible.

And they remind you:
You’re not supposed to feel ready.
You’re supposed to be willing.
Willing to feel awkward.
Willing to feel slow.
Willing to start.

Because becoming better doesn’t happen when things are easy.
It happens in the moments when you show up anyway.
When you take the medicine.
When you lean into the ache.
When you stop chasing motivation and start building momentum.

So whether you’re starting over, starting fresh, or starting again—let us walk with you.

We’ve been there too.
We know the discomfort.
And we know how powerful it is to keep going anyway.

Healing hurts. But it makes us stronger.
Doing the work is hard. But it makes us whole.
And becoming better—really better—starts by being brave enough to begin.