You know that moment when you realize you’ve been doing something backwards your entire life? I had one of those recently, and honestly, it hit harder than any gym session ever could.
I was sitting at my dining table, laptop open, coffee going cold beside me, when it struck me: I haven’t sat on the floor in months. Not months—probably years. And that’s when the dominoes started falling in my mind.
The Convenience Trap I Fell Into
Let me paint you the picture of my “modern comfortable life”:
I drive to the store instead of walking. I order groceries online. I work from a desk chair. I eat at my dining table. I use the commode in my bathroom without a second thought. My kitchen has everything within arm’s reach. I’ve optimized my entire life for minimal movement, maximum efficiency.
And you know what? I thought I was winning.
But then I started paying attention to something my grandmother used to do—and my parents still do. They squat while cooking. They sit cross-legged on the floor to eat or relax. They walk to their neighbors’ homes. They climb stairs carrying laundry. They kneel to clean. Every single day was packed with movements that kept their bodies mobile, flexible, and strong.
Meanwhile, I’m scheduling “gym time” into my calendar like it’s a business meeting, wondering why my knees creak and my back hurts.
The Built-In Benefits We’ve Abandoned
Here’s what our ancestors (and honestly, much of the world outside Western convenience culture) understood: daily life was the workout. Walking to get water, sitting on the floor, squatting, climbing, carrying—these weren’t separate activities. They were woven into existence.
Think about what happens when you sit on the floor and stand up:
- Your knees get a full range of motion
- Your hip flexibility is challenged and improved
- Your core engages without you even thinking about it
- Your balance gets a workout
- Your ankles strengthen from the uneven pressure
Now think about sitting at a dining table and standing up straight. It’s smooth. It’s convenient. It’s also doing almost nothing for your body.
The same goes for walking. I convinced myself that a 30-minute gym session on the treadmill was enough. But my grandmother walks to the market, to visit a friend, to her neighbor’s house. She’s doing cardio, fresh air, social connection, and running errands all at once. Meanwhile, I’m running nowhere on a machine while watching my phone.
My Confession: Where I’ve Been Negligent
I want to be honest about this because I think I’m not alone:
The Walking Thing: I started driving for everything. A 10-minute walk that used to be my default? Now it’s a “choice,” and I usually choose not to. I’ve outsourced my steps to my car.
The Floor Sitting: I ditched floor culture entirely. Cushioned chairs, sofas, beds—all designed to keep me horizontal or upright, never squatting or cross-legged. My ankles have forgotten how to be flexible.
The Stairs: Elevator when possible, escalator when available. My calf muscles have filed a complaint.
The Climbing, Carrying, Reaching: Everything is designed so I don’t have to stretch, climb, or use my full body. My kitchen is ergonomic. My bathroom has everything at waist height. I’ve eliminated the little challenges that used to keep me strong.
The Squatting: I don’t cook from the floor. I don’t clean low spaces. I’ve completely removed this fundamental human movement from my life.
And the worst part? I was paying money to make up for it at a gym, doing artificial versions of movements that I could have been building into my daily life for free.
The Uncomfortable Truth
We’ve designed our entire existence to eliminate physical friction. And we’ve created an expensive, time-consuming industry to artificially reintroduce it.
We optimize our homes so we don’t have to move much, then schedule “movement time.” We take elevators so our legs don’t work, then run on treadmills. We sit at desks all day, then do stretching routines to undo what we’ve done to ourselves.
It’s like we’re paying to fix what we broke.
What I’m Doing Differently Now
The good news? Once you see this pattern, you can’t unsee it. And you can actually change it.
First, I’ve reframed my thinking. I’m not just “running errands”—I’m getting my steps in. I’m not just “visiting a friend”—I’m getting cardio and fresh air. I’m not just “doing housework”—I’m building functional fitness.
But here’s the thing: I’m also keeping my intentional workout time. Because modern life, despite my best efforts, still doesn’t give me enough movement. Sitting at a desk 6 hours a day is a lot of sitting. A 20-minute walk to the market doesn’t hit the cardiovascular intensity my body actually needs.
So I’m doing both:
I’m reintroducing built-in movement back into my daily routines—walking instead of driving for short trips, sitting on the floor more often, squatting instead of bending, taking stairs, carrying heavier loads, doing floor exercises while watching TV.
AND I’m still setting aside dedicated workout time because modern life is still fundamentally sedentary compared to how humans lived for millennia.
It’s not one or the other. It’s both.
Small Changes That Actually Add Up
If you’re reading this and recognizing yourself in my confession (and I think many of you will), here are some stupidly simple shifts:
Walk when you can. Even if it seems inefficient. Especially then.
Sit on the floor sometimes. Not all the time if your knees protest, but intentionally. Your body will adapt.
Use stairs. Skip the elevator. Your future self will thank you.
Squat instead of bending. When you pick something up, when you’re doing laundry, when you’re organizing low shelves.
Carry things differently. Don’t move one item at a time. Challenge your balance and core.
Cook from the floor occasionally. Sit cross-legged or squatting and prepare a meal. It’s awkward at first, then oddly meditative.
Take the long way. To the bathroom, to the kitchen, to the car. Add steps where you can.
These aren’t workouts. But they’re also not nothing. They’re reconnecting with the movement patterns that kept humans healthy for thousands of years.
The Real Revolution
Here’s what I’ve learned: the real fitness revolution isn’t buying a gym membership or following a workout video. It’s refusing to optimize away every bit of physical challenge from your daily life.
It’s recognizing that when you make everything frictionless, you also make yourself weaker.
And it’s understanding that both things can be true: you can do intentional, focused workouts AND build movement back into your regular routines. You don’t have to choose.
My grandmother doesn’t have a personal trainer, but she has the functional fitness of someone who actually uses her body throughout the day. I have my gym sessions, but I’d be a lot better off if I also used my body for the things I’m designed to do: walk, squat, carry, climb, and move.
A Gentle Invitation
I’m not saying throw out your gym membership or boycott technology. I’m saying: notice where you’ve optimized away your own physical engagement. See the places where convenience has replaced movement.
And then make small choices to bring some of that built-in exercise back.
Because the truth is, we don’t need more fitness. We need more movement woven back into how we actually live.
Everything else is just trying to fix what we broke.
What’s one area of your life where you’ve outsourced movement? Pick one. Start there. You might be surprised what your body remembers how to do.
