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