Why I Quit Chess and Accidentally Fixed My Doom Scrolling
I am really bad at chess. Like embarrassingly bad. So bad, in fact, that I’ve beaten my 12-year-old son exactly once… when he was five.
Chess is incredibly difficult for me. It’s slow and drawn out, with games being played mentally for twelve steps before a single move is ever made on the board. I find it boring and mentally underwhelming. And yet, despite my general dislike for the game, I decided chess was the answer to curbing my doom scrolling.
The plan was to install a chess app, pay for the upgrade to avoid ads, and then, when I reached for my phone out of habit, I’d play chess instead. All those games would make me a better chess player. I’d beat my kid. I’d actually be able to play against my husband.
It started out well. Every night, instead of scrolling, I logged into the chess app. I watched the daily lesson, played a few puzzles, and then played a couple of games. While I enjoyed the lessons and the puzzles, which were quick, timed challenges where you solved a prompt as fast as possible, I did not enjoy the actual games.
With every loss, I cringed.
How was my rating still so low?
Why wasn’t I making any progress?
How come I could never remember when to apply en passant and only remembered to castle when it was already too late?
UGH.
My brain would frequently scream: Why are you so bad at this?!?!
Eventually, I started avoiding the chess app altogether and went straight back to scrolling.
Because this was a habit I desperately wanted to break, I tried to find something I genuinely liked doing more than scrolling.
Cue the NYT Games app.
The daily puzzles are one of my favorite morning routines, and I was genuinely bummed when the Mini went behind a paywall. Hoping the crossword would cure my woes, I downloaded the app, paid for the upgrade, and voilà…problem solved.
Having access to the full games archive is especially satisfying. If one puzzle gets solved too quickly, I can just play another.
Around the same time, I decided to replace doom scrolling with useful information and bought two anatomy apps.
One is essentially a deep-dive atlas of the human body, structured like flashcards but with the ability to isolate bones or muscles, zoom in on organs, and follow nerves through the body. I love it.
The other is a strength training app with endless variations of exercises. A skinless model demonstrates each movement so you can see individual muscles firing, and there are different modules related to strength training and skill development. It’s practical, lets me follow my curiosity without overwhelm, and frequently jogs my memory on exercises my trainer has programmed that I’ve completely forgotten how to do.
I use both apps regularly, on my own and with clients.
Unlike chess, which left me feeling like a totally unmotivated dumb-dumb, these games and anatomy apps work with how my brain works, not against it.
When I worked at Spine and Sports Therapy down in Houston, the Docs had everyone read StrengthsFinder 2.0. The book included an assessment that identified your greatest strengths.
Unlike most self-help advice at the time, this book advocated focusing on strengths rather than weaknesses. There wasn’t even a “weaknesses” section in the assessment.
Instead of putting all your energy into “fixing the shit you’re bad at,” authors Clifton and Buckingham argued that we should focus on developing our innate talents, because weaknesses will never grow as much as natural strengths anyway.
This book changed my life.
There’s also something in economics called the Pareto Principle, which has been enthusiastically co-opted by the self-help world. In short, about 80% of outcomes come from 20% of inputs. In layman’s terms: when we focus on what we’re naturally good at and genuinely interested in, we tend to get disproportionately great results.
This isn’t all woo-woo nonsense. Any elementary school teacher will tell you that humans are more motivated and pay better attention to things they’re interested in. It turns out this applies to habits, too.
When we build habits that align with our interests and strengths, we’re far more likely to keep them. They don’t require willpower, self-control, guilt, shame, manipulation, or discipline for discipline’s sake. Interest does the heavy lifting.
My top strengths are adaptability and quick thinking, not long-term strategic planning. When I stopped trying to be a chess person and leaned fully into being a nerdy puzzle-and-anatomy geek, I cut my daily phone use in half.
Not through some heroic display of willpower, but by aligning with what I already enjoy and do well.
We spend an incredible amount of time and energy trying to “fix” ourselves. We make resolutions, create plans, and force habits that look great on paper but don’t actually fit who we are. How often have we felt bad for not enjoying things we should enjoy, simply because they’re trendy, productive-looking, or culturally approved?
Real, lasting change doesn’t come from doing what we think we should be doing.
Motivation comes from digging into what already lights us up.
This is true almost everywhere: school, work, relationships, exercise, diet, hobbies.
When you focus on what naturally holds your attention, what you actually want to do, you don’t have to tap into the tiny, finite reservoir of human willpower. You don’t need to trick or bribe yourself. The behavior changes because the friction disappears.
It’s also a lot easier to do things you’re good at.
I don’t have to try really really hard to still be terrible at chess. With a little effort, I can be great at crosswords.
The same 80/20 thinking applies to movement.
When we force ourselves into workouts we don’t enjoy, we end up miserable, resent exercise, and rely on a dwindling supply of willpower. But when we move in ways we enjoy, ways that feel interesting and good, movement becomes sustainable, and consistency becomes the default.
For me, that sweet spot is trail running, Pilates, and strength training. That’s where joy, challenge, and curiosity align. It’s also what allows room for movement that’s purely fun, like ballroom dancing and paddleboarding, and movement that’s purely challenging, like mountain biking and hiking 14’ers.
None of this is accidental. It’s the intentional result of paying attention to what I like, what my body responds to, and what fits into my life. And cutting out everything else without guilt.
If you’ve been spinning your wheels and burning through willpower when it comes to exercise, pause and ask yourself what you’re actually doing…and what you actually love.
Are you tracking 10,000 steps every day out of obligation? Could you hike, walk, roller skate, run, swim, skateboard, or bike instead?
Are you grinding through endless HIIT classes because you feel like you have to? What about kickboxing, TRX, or a slower, more intentional strength program?
Are you doing yoga because everyone tells you it’s good for you? Have you tried tai chi, meditation, Pilates, or good old-fashioned stretching instead?
Movement doesn’t have to be on trend or look a certain way to count.
It just has to work for you.
80-20 Alignment…not endless discipline.
Until next time, friends.
-Rubecca
The 7 Types of Rest (and Why Sleep Isn’t Always the Answer)
We talk about exhaustion like it has one solution: sleep more.
While sleep absolutely matters, it turns out it’s often not the kind of rest we’re actually missing.
When I first learned there are seven distinct types of rest, it stopped me in my tracks. It explained so much about why so many of us feel bone tired, even when we’re technically “doing everything right” and getting 8 hours of sleep per night.
Turns out, more sleep isn’t always the answer.
More intentional rest usually is.
Why We’re So Bad at Treating Exhaustion
As I went down the research rabbit hole, something became painfully clear:
Most advice for managing exhaustion is… wildly off.
“Self-care” advice aimed at women often boils down to massages, pedicures, and bubble baths. Men are told to stretch after lifting and maybe eat a vegetable. Not once did I see an article mention that there are multiple types of rest and that the wrong kind of rest won’t help you feel rested at all.
Speaking from experience, massages and pedicures do absolutely nothing for my exhaustion. Sometimes they make it worse, because now I’m still tired and annoyed that I spent a bunch of money trying to fix something that didn’t work.
That spiral usually ends with guilt and self-doubt:
Why didn’t that help? What’s wrong with me?
Turns out: nothing.
I just wasn’t tired in the way those things address.
Rest vs. Self-Care (They’re Not the Same)
Rest can be a form of self-care…but not all self-care is rest.
At its most basic, self-care is everything that supports health and functioning: eating, hygiene, boundaries, relationships. Eating vegetables and flossing are self-care. They are not rest.
Rest is about reducing load on specific systems in the body and nervous system. If you’re exhausted, choosing the wrong type of “self-care” won’t restore you, no matter how aesthetic it looks on social media.
The 7 Types of Rest
The seven types of rest are:
Physical
Mental
Emotional
Spiritual
Creative
Sensory
Social
Most of us are depleted in several at once.
Here’s a practical breakdown.
Physical Rest
This is the one we usually think of first: sleep, naps, stretching, gentle movement.
For active folks and athletes, one of the clearest signs you need physical rest is persistent soreness or declining performance. You cannot fix that by training harder. You fix it by resting.
The sweet spot is a combination of:
Passive rest (sleep, naps, days off)
Active rest (Pilates, yoga, stretch therapy)
That pairing can completely change how your body recovers.
Mental Rest
Mental rest means giving your brain a break from constant stimulation and expectation.
This can look like:
Meditation
Social media breaks
Time outside
Better time boundaries and fewer “always on” demands
When the brain never gets a pause, we see mental fog, irritability, poor sleep, and feeling overwhelmed by normal daily tasks. Your brain was never designed to fire at 100% all the time. Turns out our moms were right. Boredom is good for your brain and our constant state of mental stimulation through our phones, laptops and devices is draining us.
Emotional Rest
Emotional rest is the ability to be honest about how you’re actually doing and to feel your feelings without performing, fixing, or people-pleasing.
It often requires:
Stronger boundaries
Saying no
Stepping back from emotionally draining situations
Being truthful instead of “fine”
If you’re navigating chronic stress—caregiving, health issues, financial strain, relationship challenges—emotional rest can feel impossible. But it often starts very small:
Taking a break from news or social media
Saying “I’m not okay today”
Declining a request you don’t have capacity for
Acknowledging that you’re tired, sad, or overwhelmed
Small honesty creates space. Space creates rest.
Spiritual Rest
Spiritual rest isn’t just religious practice. It’s about connection and meaning.
If you’re feeling disconnected, ungrounded, or purposeless, spiritual rest can come from:
Community
Service
Nature
Practices that remind you you’re part of something bigger
Creative Rest
Creative rest is reconnecting with wonder and inspiration.
It can be hiking, painting, watching a bee pollinate a flower, or sitting in an audience instead of producing something. It’s about receiving, not output.
One thing worth naming here: hustle culture has convinced us that every hobby should be monetized. The moment a hobby becomes income, it stops being restorative. It becomes work.
Creative rest requires permission to:
Be messy
Be bad at something
Create without outcomes
Scribble. Play. Make something pointless. Go outside. Get messy.
Sensory Rest
Sensory overload happens when the brain takes in more stimulation than it can process: screens, noise, lights, notifications, constant input.
When this happens, the nervous system shifts into fight, flight, or freeze.
Sensory rest is the antidote:
Screen breaks
Quiet walks
Driving without music
Soft lighting
Stillness
Fun side note: boredom is a powerful creativity trigger. Your brain needs low stimulation to reset.
Social Rest
Social rest isn’t isolation. It’s spending time with people who don’t require performance.
Too much social rest leads to loneliness. Too little leads to exhaustion. The goal is connection without curation.
In a world of highlight reels, being fully seen, all of our messy bits included, is deeply restorative.
Why the 7 Types of Rest Matter at Pilates Native
Pilates Native is built on three pillars: Rest, Recover, Restore. Rest comes first for a reason.
Injury prevention starts with rest
Overuse injuries come from overexertion. Chronic fatigue leads to compensations, poor muscle recruitment, and burnout…which leads directly to injury.(Yes, this is literally our specialty.)
Your nervous system drives everything
If your nervous system is overstimulated, your training will suffer. A fried brain can’t coordinate efficient movement.Movement is medicine
The body is designed to move. Pilates and stretch therapy support circulation, joint health, breath, and nervous system regulation, without adding more stress.
Yes, I Spreadsheeted This
While mapping the seven rest types, I noticed a lot of overlap, so obviously, I made a spreadsheet.
The most efficient rest practices across multiple categories.
Taking breaks from social media
Going outside
Taking intentional breaks throughout the day
During this experiment, my phone died for five days. No warning. No backup. Just… gone.
While running a business. With my spouse out of town. During back-to-school chaos.
And somehow?
I slept better. I felt calmer. I had more actual downtime.
Since then, I’ve been far more intentional with screen limits, which does mean I’m sometimes slower to respond.
If you want to explore this more deeply, I’ve created a super basic and non-fancy downloadable 11×14 PDF mapping all seven types of rest and how to access them.
And I’d love to know:
Which type of rest do you need most right now?
See you soon,
– R
Saying No to Say Yes
Posted on March 22, 2025 by pilatesnative
When I left engineering a few years ago, an opportunity popped up to serve on the board for my son’s school. The school was in the process of expanding their preK-6th grade program to include a 7th and 8th grade middle school program. The expansion included purchasing and renovating an old church into the middle school building. After touring several other Montessori middle and high schools, I was stoked to help with this expansion. With just a few months left in my three year term, the middle school is thriving as it preps to enter its third school year in the fall.
As a board, we each volunteer anywhere from 3-5 hours a month for board meetings, strategic planning sessions and various committees. Many of the board members also volunteer in the classrooms, help out out on field trips, man the morning carline, reshelve books in the library, and help with a lot of other volunteer tasks. A few months ago, we were surprised by an anonymous letter from a community member criticizing the board for “not doing enough”. The letter didn’t include any specific details. No examples, no clear concerns, no events we’d skipped, just a vague call for more.
In all honesty, my first reaction was annoyance. How do you address concerns when you don’t even know what they are? How do you improve when there’s nothing concrete to work with? How do you address a complaint telling you to do more when you’re already doing a lot?
But after a long run a few days later, I had another reaction. This letter, instead of making me want to do more, made me pause and take stock of everything I was already doing.
The Reality of My Commitments
At the time, my life looked something like this:
Running two businesses: Pilates Native and The Essential Variable
Teaching Pilates Instructor Training
Co-hosting the Movers & Healers meetups
Taking on contract work as a Welding Engineer
Serving on the school board as the BOD secretary
Leading the 4-H bee group with my husband and maintaining the 4-H beehive
Attending a 15 week Intro to Farming class on Wednesdays after work
Taking ballroom dance lessons twice a week
Maintaining a 5-6 day workout routine that strength training, running, and Pilates
And, most importantly, balancing my role as a family member, whether that’s as a wife, daughter, aunt, sister, or mom
A Lesson from My 20s: The Burnout Trap
In my early 20s, I was stuck in a massive injury cycle. Run, injury, rest, recover, run, injury. Over and over again. No matter how much I rested, iced, or did recovery work, I ended up limping or in pain. Dr. DeWalch, the Dr. I worked for at Spine & Sports Therapy, sat me down and gave me a gentle but firm talk on overcommitting myself and the importance of using my energy wisely to avoid burnout. It wasn’t the amount of running that was trapping me on the injury cycle, it was my tendency to get so excited about life that it led to overcommitting myself and burning out. That burnout showed up as endless injuries.
After work one day, we sat down together and he had me write down my entire weekly schedule, day by day, hour by hour. In a list next to that schedule, he had me write down everything I was committed to and was doing on a weekly or monthly basis. Once everything was down on paper, he asked me what was most important. What did I want to do be doing? What could I let go of? What caused more stress than value? What was hurting my body? Not nourishing my soul?
It took us a couple of hours to get through this curate and cull process, looking for ways to cut out the distractions and make room for the things that really mattered. I left that meeting knowing that I would keep running, but could quit bootcamp. Would keep painting but quit voice lessons. Would keep Tuesday trivia nights with friends, but skip Thursday happy hours. That Pilates was a non-negotiable part of my life.
Since then, I’ve done these “curate and cull” sessions every couple of years. I have used his advice to direct hobbies, friendships, home decor, clothing choices and so much more.
That anonymous letter to the BOD was a reminder that it was probably time to listen to Dr. D again and curate and cull my commitments.
Every so often, sit down, take stock of your commitments. Curate your life like you would a piece of art. Keep the essentials. Let go of the noise. Leave space for what matters.
Some commitments have natural end limits. The Intro to Farming class just ended. My board term is up in May, and I won’t be seeking reelection. None of the kids signed up for Bee Group this year.
Instead, I’ll be spending that time:
Investing fully in Pilates Native and the Pilates instructor training program, rather than splitting my energy between too many projects
Using what I learned in farm class to turn our yard into an urban farmscape
Increasing my weekly running distances and keeping Strength Training and Pilates as important parts of my weekly routine
Scheduling a weekly art time and picking up brushes, paints, pencils, markers and messy things again
Writing more
Prioritizing weekly dates with family and friends, because those relationships deserve my full presence
The Power of Saying No
I used to believe that success was about adding more. More commitments, more projects, more friends, more accomplishments, more ways to contribute.
But Dr. D taught me that saying no wasn’t about doing less. It was about doing what mattered most and what brought the most value. Another mentor once said that we should aim for “deep, not wide”, which dovetails well with D’s advice.
That anonymous letter didn’t inspire me to work harder or add more volunteer activities to my schedule. It inspired me to sit down and take stock of my schedule. To choose my activities more intentionally, to create more space for what matters and to let go of things that have served their purpose.
At the end of the day, it’s not always about quantity, it’s also about quality. And every single relationship in my life, whether its family, friends or clients, deserves a Rubecca that shows up fully. With energy, clear priorities and the ability to hold space.
As spring break ends and I’ve spent a week fully embracing the trend of endless tv and social media scrolling known as “bed rotting”, I’m looking forward to putting the phone down, turning the tv off and heading back into the studio with a renewed energy, clearer priorities and a stronger sense of purpose.
I can’t wait to see you there.
-Rubecca
Good ol’ imposter syndrome
Posted on August 2, 2023 by pilatesnative
I’ve been running for over 25 years.
In sleet, snow, mud, rain, hail, wind, heat advisories and alligator parks.
I’ve run in joy…and in grief.
In panic…and in celebration.
In prayer…and in hope.
I’ve run in love…and in anger.
In solitude…and in community.
In Alaska and Mexico and almost every state in between.
I’ve run road races and trails, sand and mud, rattlesnake territory and sunrise trails.
In bare feet and homemade sandals, in the latest and greatest trainers.
I’ve run with a broken toe, a pulled ab, a torn shoulder.
I’ve even run while 38 weeks pregnant.
And yet…I still get imposter syndrome.
Baaaad.
There are times when I’ll see another runner doing something that I’m not doing, and I’ll start to panic and doubt myself. Are they the “real” runner on the trail and should I be doing what they’re doing?
Should I have brought my camelback?
Should I have left the camelback at home?
Did I get up here too late? Too early?
Am I running too fast? Too slow? Too far? Not far enough?
Usually, my brain will just tell itself to “shut up and run”. Which normally works. But last week, I let the old noodle wander and spent some time ruminating on what determines a “real runner”.
Is it mileage? Dedication? Time? Pace? Weight, height, size, age? Is it years of experience? Number of PR’s? The bib collection from 5ks, 10ks, marathons? Is it ultra marathon status?
When do I get to call myself a “real” runner?
In the midst of this brain meander, I was researching 14’ers and came across a Facebook post written by a man from the Pacific North West (PWN). I’m paraphrasing, but in his opinion “Because most Colorado 14’ers have established routes and trails, they’re essentially a walk in the park.” He continued to opine that folks shouldn’t be nearly as proud of themselves for summiting a 14’er as they were and that “real” mountaineering could only be found in the PNW…at 6,000 feet to 10,000 feet, where bushwhacking and trailblazing was a mandatory part of wayfinding to the summit. (I have no idea if that’s true or not, btw.)
My first reaction was that this guy was an uneducated jackass.
While Colorado 14’ers do have established routes, which help protect the extremely fragile tundra ecosystem, they’re hardly “a walk in the park”. Ask anyone who’s summited and they’ll tell you about the ridiculously early wake up, the long mileage, the gain in elevation, the altitude, the exposure, the solitude, the lack of cell service and emergency access, the wayfinding and the meticulous attention to the clouds rolling in.
Folks hoping to summit do so knowing they may encounter altitude sickness, lightning, electrical storms, wind, sleet, snow, hail, rain, mud, ice, exposure, and some rock scrambling, all while knowing they are ultimately responsible for their own well being.
14’ers are an entire category of hiking and trail running unlike any other. Even the “easy” ones can take some serious work.
In one fell sweep, this dude’s comment just completely negated all of the work, training, fitness and mental strength that it takes to summit a 14’er.
Reading through the comments and his replies, I realized 2 things.
1) This dude was the epitome of gatekeeping.
Folks couldn’t be real mountaineers or hikers unless they met his standards.
They shouldn’t feel proud or excited about their accomplishments, which had absolutely nothing to do with him, because they didn’t meet thearbitrary standards that he’d just made up. LAME.
And
2) This ridiculous illogical gatekeeping is EXACTLY what our brains do to us when they slip into imposter syndrome.
Our brain goes into douchey gatekeeper mode and tells us that all of the work, training, time, and effort we’ve put into something doesn’t matter, because well…there’s some arbitrary reason why that probably doesn’t even make sense.
My second reaction, was recognizing that this dude’s behavior was EXACTLY how I was treating my running practice and it made me feel super icky.
If 25 years and thousands of miles doesn’t make me a runner, then what does?
What are those arbitrary, bushwhacking, wayfinding markers that I’ve been holding myself to? And why? What benefit do they serve? How do they serve me?
Are they really just holding me back from a stellar running experience?
Or like this dude, are my thoughts putting limits on celebrating my awesome experiences and achievements just because they’re not good enough (on a super stupid and arbitrary scale that doesn’t even exist)?
What are those arbitrary, bushwhacking, wayfinding markers that you’ve been holding yourself to?
What benefit do they serve? How do they serve you? Are they really just holding you back from a stellar experience in whatever it is that you love to do?
Or like that annoying gatekeeper dude, are your thoughts putting limits on celebrating your awesome experiences and achievements because they’re not good enough (on a super stupid and arbitrary scale that doesn’t even exist)?
Can we clean up those gatekeeping imposter syndrome thoughts and commit to “I do the thing, therefore I am the thing”?
Can we commit to celebrating our wins, no matter how small or no matter who’s doing it better?
As always, I’d love to hear your thoughts on this! Shoot me a text, email or let’s talk about it at your next Pilates or Stretch session.
Until next time, my friends. Have an amazing summer. Enjoy the sunshine!
-Rubecca
Rejecting hustle culture
Posted on October 26, 2021 by pilatesnative
Running a business + honoring my own needs
Good morning lovely people! Just a quick reminder that this is my week off from the studio.
When I first started down this path as a Sports Therapist for a Chiro clinic, I was working 40 hours a week and seeing patients on 30 min intervals. It was fun and I learned a ton, but man…between the patient notes, individualized planned sessions and demonstrating, it was mentally, emotionally and physically exhausting. After work, I’d get home and just sit on the couch just staring into space for an hour before gearing up to take the dogs running or doing normal life activities. One of the reasons I went back to engineering was because I needed something that was a little less energy intense.
When I opened the studio, I knew 3 things:
burnout was the number one reason fitness professionals move on from the industry
overwork and underpay killed the passion for most small business owners
my own energy limitations
Unlike most small businesses where we jump in 100% working 24/7, this little studio was designed with strong boundaries around my energy, including the number of clients and hours worked. My first openings for availability was limited to 3 clients per week! That sounds CRAZY, right? Who starts a business limited to just 3 clients?!?!
But here’s the thing. When I honor my own energy needs and limitations, I can give my clients 100% every session. I LOVE being in the studio, I LOVE creating that safe calm space for you guys. And I LOVE every minute we are together.
When I was working 40 hours a week, I didn’t love my job after about 20 hours. And that sucked big time.
As my ability to take on studio hours increased, I wanted to make sure I was honoring my own energy needs and decided my business plan would include limited hours/clients per week AND the ability to give myself a week off every 6 weeks.
This was a HUGE decision. It meant I had to be brave enough to walk the walk and talk the talk, following all of my own advice to clients on the importance of self care, prioritizing your needs, and knowing when to take a break BEFORE you break.
It meant going against all conventional small business advice of hustling, nose to the grindstone, don’t stop ‘til you get enough.
And it meant either closing the studio for a week every 6 weeks and no income that week or finding a dedicated sub that I could trust to keep things rolling.
In theory, it was a terrible idea.
In practice, it’s been the BEST business decision ever.
My clients were amazingly receptive and supportive of the idea.
I’ve found two amazing subs who have started to create relationships with regular clients and provide incredibly valuable insight and variety to the client practice.
And I’ve even found that some clients will schedule their own trips, appointments or other self care things during that week break. Together, we’re walkin’ the walk.
Long story short? Rejecting hustle culture, honoring my needs and building a business with strong boundaries around those needs has allowed the culture of self care to thrive in the studio. It’s not just some catch phrase we throw around. It’s what we do.
Hell ya.
Have an awesome week! I miss you already and can’t wait to see you next Tuesday!
Honoring all the good stuff,
-Rubecca