I’ve been reading The Book of Trespass by Nick Hayes recently.
On the surface, it’s about land, Footpaths, ownership, and Trespassing.
The weird reality is that huge parts of the countryside are technically “off limits” to normal people.
But underneath it all, the message is really about permission.
Who gets told they belong somewhere.
Who gets told they don’t.
Who feels comfortable entering certain spaces.
And who spends years standing outside the gates thinking:
“Probably not for people like me.”
Which, weirdly enough, is exactly what happens in the world of health and fitness too.
Most People Feel Like They’re Trespassing
Walk into most gyms for the first time and tell me it doesn’t feel like entering someone else’s territory.
Everyone seems to know what they’re doing.
People have the clothes.
The jargon.
The confidence.
The routines.
Meanwhile, you’re standing there wondering how the rowing machine works while trying not to make eye contact with Barry doing curls directly in front of the mirror for the 14th consecutive year. But you know those arms.
A lot of people don’t struggle with fitness because they’re lazy.
They struggle because deep down they feel like they don’t belong there.
Like health and fitness is a private club for:
- fit people
- genetically blessed people
- 22 year olds with abs
- influencers making overnight oats in matching gym wear
- people who somehow enjoy burpees
And the industry hasn’t exactly helped.
For years, fitness marketing has basically screamed:
“Transform your body!”
“Fix yourself!”
“Summer shred!”
“No excuses!”
“Earn your food!”
It turns movement into punishment and gyms into places where people feel judged before they’ve even picked up a dumbbell.
So, people stay outside the gate.
Not because they can’t do it.
Because they feel like they’re trespassing.
The Fitness Industry Loves Invisible Fences
That’s the thing this book made me think about most.
Invisible barriers.
Not actual fences.
but
Psychological ones.
The fitness world is full of them.
“You need to train six days a week.”
“You need to cut carbs.”
“You need to suffer.”
“You need to be all in.”
“You need discipline.”
“You need this supplement stack.”
“You need to hate yourself into changing.”
Absolute bollocks.
Most people don’t need a military operation.
They need:
- some structure
- realistic habits
- decent sleep
- enough protein
- some fruit and veg
- movement they don’t dread
- consistency
That’s it. Boring I know.
But simple doesn’t sell very well online.
So instead, the industry builds fences around basic health and acts like you need special access to enter. Like, there is some sort of secret handshake where you have to also show your left nipple.
You Don’t Need Permission To Start
One of the strongest themes in the book is the idea that people slowly stopped believing the countryside belonged to them.
That they had a right to walk it.
Experience it.
Exist in it.
A lot of people now feel the same about fitness.
They think:
- “I’m too old.”
- “I’m too overweight.”
- “I’m too unfit.”
- “I’ve left it too late.”
- “I’ll start when I feel more confident.”
But confidence usually comes after you start. I’ve gone through this in recent blogs.
Not before.
Nobody earns the right to look after themselves.
You don’t need permission to:
- go for a walk
- lift weights
- join a class
- learn about nutrition
- start again
- take up space in a gym
And you definitely don’t need to “get fit first” before entering a fitness environment.
That’s like saying:
“I’ll learn to swim before getting in the pool.”
Makes no sense.
The Problem With Extremes
Another thing the book touches on is how disconnected people become from things once access disappears.
That happens with food too.
People lose touch with:
- hunger
- fullness
- movement
- enjoyment
- routine
- cooking
- recovery
Then the internet fills the gap with extremes.
Suddenly every meal has rules.
Every food is either “toxic” or “clean.”
Every workout has to leave you crawling across the floor like you survived a hostage situation.
And somewhere along the line people stop asking:
“Does this actually improve my life?”
Because that should be the point.
Not punishment.
Not burnout.
Not guilt.
A better life.
More energy.
More confidence.
Less pain.
Better health.
More capability.
More years doing cool shit with people you love.
That’s the goal.
Maybe Health Should Feel More Like Rambling
The older I get, the less I think fitness should feel like war.
Maybe it should feel more like walking through the countryside.
Some days challenging.
Some days peaceful.
Some days muddy and miserable and you question your decisions halfway through.
But still worth doing.
Not because you’re chasing perfection.
Because you’re participating in your own life.
That’s what fitness actually is.
Not 12-week extremes.
Not detox teas.
Not “earning” weekends.
Just repeatedly returning to the basics.
Walking.
Lifting.
Eating reasonably well.
Sleeping.
Recovering.
Laughing.
Living.
Without needing to become a completely different person first.
Final Thought
A lot of people spend years waiting for permission to take care of themselves.
Permission to start.
Permission to fail.
Permission to be imperfect.
Permission to take up space.
But your health was never supposed to belong to influencers, apps, supplements, or fitness culture.
It belongs to you.
And maybe the biggest act of rebellion these days isn’t some savage 5am ice bath hustle routine.
Maybe it’s simply deciding:
“I’m allowed to do this my own way.”
Even if you start slow.
Even if you’ve failed before.
Even if you feel like you don’t belong.
You do.
And you will find that the gate was never locked in the first place.
