There’s a particular flavour to burnout that nobody warns you about. It’s not dramatic-no sudden crash, no breakdown moment you can pinpoint. It’s worse than that. It’s the slow, predictable rhythm of launching into the week like a firework, peaking on Tuesday with absolute certainty, then watching yourself deflate. Wednesday arrives, and with it, the shame. By Thursday and Friday, you’re berating yourself for running out of steam when the work still needs doing. The weekend comes as mercy and punishment combined-relief that you’ve survived, dread that it’s about to start again.
I’d developed this pattern to an art form. Three years of it. Build, peak, collapse, repeat.
Then last week, everything changed.
Not because I made some dramatic decision. Not because I finally had a breakthrough during meditation or sat down and rewrote my life goals. It changed because of three words from someone I deeply respect, delivered whilst we were hiking through challenging terrain on a summer afternoon.
“Energy builds energy.”
The Setup (Or: How I Talked Myself Into Staying Exhausted)
She’s in her sixties, my hiking buddy from the summer. Over the course of several hikes, we’d developed the kind of friendship where real conversations happen naturally-the sort where you end up sharing things you didn’t plan to mention. One afternoon, I found myself explaining why I hadn’t joined a gym. Too tired, I told her. Too run down. Not enough time.
She stopped walking. Actually stopped mid-trail, turned to face me, and was very clear: “Energy builds energy.”
No lecture. No motivational speech. Just a statement of fact from someone who’s completed six half-marathons and full Ironman events. Someone who clearly understands something fundamental about how energy actually works.
The words stuck with me. But I didn’t act on them immediately.
What was holding me back wasn’t really tiredness, though that was part of it. It was something more insidious: a combination of seasonal resistance and a mindset I didn’t know I had about what gym membership meant.
Autumn is where my motivation goes to die. I love moving in summer-running, cycling, being outdoors when the sun’s shining feels natural, pleasurable, easy. But when the clocks go back and daylight becomes scarce, something in me switches off. The lack of natural light makes me feel unmotivated. It’s not laziness; it’s more like the world itself becomes greyscale, and I match it.
Add to that a voice in my head telling me that gym membership was a luxury I couldn’t afford. That it was a waste of money. That money spent on something I’d use “only four or five days a week” wasn’t an investment in myself-it was indulgence.
Except I wanted to be using it four or five days a week. Some days for vigorous exercise, some days for a swim and time in the sauna. The word leisure was calling to me-and that’s precisely what I was fighting against. A gym, in my mind, meant punishing myself through exercise. But a leisure centre? That’s somewhere you treat yourself. That’s permission to both push yourself and be gentle with yourself in the same space.
The real block wasn’t financial. It was philosophical. On some level, I’d decided that if I was struggling to show up without the gym, how would I possibly afford it? But that’s circular reasoning, isn’t it? I was too tired to join because I didn’t have the energy to exercise, and I didn’t have the energy because I wasn’t exercising. A loop I couldn’t break.
Here’s the thing though: joining the gym wasn’t the primary investment. The real investment was in creating the energy to afford the gym. To show up for my clients better, to focus on my studies more clearly, to actually have the mental bandwidth to be the person I wanted to be. Energy and money flow together in ways people don’t often talk about.
The Decision
The turning point came when two things aligned: frustration reached a tipping point, and the leisure centre was running a three-month promotion at an affordable rate.
And then, a client sent me a generous tip in gratitude for the work we’d been doing together. It felt like permission from the universe. I took that money and joined the leisure centre.
This isn’t a story about discipline or willpower. I didn’t wake up one day determined to “get fit.” What happened was simpler and more radical: I chose to test a hypothesis. This woman had told me that energy builds energy. I’d reached a point where I had nothing to lose. So I decided to act before I felt ready-which is the only time most of us ever actually do anything that matters.
What Actually Happened
The first week astonished me. And I mean astonished in a way that makes you question why this isn’t common knowledge.
I attended three half-day trainings last week. Previously, I’d come out of every single one mentally exhausted. The rest of the afternoon was lost-recovery time, head down, nothing else happening. I’d need the second half of the day to decompress.
Last week? I attended all three, then went to the leisure centre, came home, and still had the clarity and energy to focus on my coursework. Actual focus. Not the zombie version where you’re reading words but no comprehension is happening.
There’s research backing this up, which feels important to acknowledge. When you exercise regularly, your body and brain respond in ways that multiply-it’s not just about that workout hour. Exercise increases something called BDNF (brain-derived neurotrophic factor), which essentially helps your brain forge new neural pathways and protect existing ones. Your sleep improves-not just marginally, but significantly. One study found that people getting at least thirty minutes of moderate aerobic exercise saw improvements in sleep quality on the same night. Better sleep means better cognitive function, clearer thinking, and-here’s the kicker-more energy the next day.
It’s genuinely a cycle that builds on itself.
By Friday evening, I would normally be depleted to the point where socialising felt impossible. Completely done. But I stayed up until three in the morning because I was so energised and enthusiastic about the work I was doing. Then Saturday, I kept going. And Sunday-right now-I’m still working.
Not because I’m ignoring rest or pushing unsustainably, but because energy is creating energy. Each day gives me more rather than less.
The mid-week crash that’s defined my last three years? I woke up Monday morning-not dragged myself out of bed, but woke up excited. Earlier than usual, genuinely eager to get back to work. That’s the difference between operating on fumes and operating on actual fuel.
Why This Matters (Beyond the Obvious)
Here’s what I’ve come to understand: energy is fundamental to everything. It affects your mood, your productivity, your decisions about what you eat, your ability to think clearly, your capacity to show up for people you care about. It’s not some fluffy concept-it’s the actual substrate of your life.
We talk about therapy, coaching, hypnosis as interventions for overwhelm and burnout. And those things work. But there’s something we miss: sometimes the intervention is movement. It’s showing up somewhere that feels like a treat rather than a punishment. It’s deliberately building conditions where energy generates energy rather than depletes it.
My hiking buddy mentioned something during one of our conversations that crystallised this. She said that if you train for something like an Ironman, the things people typically describe as “tiring”-buying groceries, commuting to work, everyday tasks-suddenly feel trivial by comparison. When you have a baseline of serious energy expenditure, everything else recalibrates.
You don’t need to train for an Ironman. But the principle holds: the more energy you generate through movement, sleep, better diet (which follows naturally when you’re sleeping well), the more everything else becomes manageable. Easier. Clearer.
It’s not that the external circumstances of my life changed this week. I’ve still got client work, courses to complete, a god-puppy to walk, a website to build, coaching certifications to study for. Same life. But the energy to navigate it all-that changed completely.
The Real Insight
Energy builds energy. It’s not motivational speak. It’s not “think positive” dressed up in new language. It’s mechanics.
And it’s something you can actually do. Not tomorrow. Not when you feel ready. Now.
You can invest in it through movement-whatever that looks like for you. Through better sleep. Through nourishing your body more thoughtfully. Through hypnosis, coaching, whatever tools help you shift the patterns that are draining you.
Nike said “just do it” decades ago, and they weren’t wrong. But there’s something before the doing: permission. Permission to join the leisure centre instead of the gym if that’s what your brain needs to show up. Permission to treat it as self-investment rather than indulgence. Permission to act before you feel ready, because the energy to feel ready comes after the action, not before.
