Why 'No Pain, No Gain' is Bad Theology and Worse Fitness Advice for Men Over 50
Pain vs. Discomfort: How Understanding Your Body Can Transform Your Faith and Fitness After 50
"Do you not know that your bodies are temples of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from God? You are not your own." - 1 Corinthians 6:19
You've probably heard it before: "Pain is weakness leaving the body." Sounds tough, right? Makes you want to grunt and prove your manhood. But here's the thing: it's not actually true. And believing it might be the very thing holding you back from stewarding your body—God's temple—the way you're called to.
After years of working with men over 50 who are serious about both their faith and their fitness, I've learned something crucial: the guys who achieve sustainable, long-term health have mastered the art of listening to their bodies. They understand the critical difference between pain and discomfort, and that wisdom changes everything.
Pain: Your Body's God-Given Warning System
Pain is your body's way of waving a red flag and saying, "Hey, something's not right here!" It's not weakness leaving the body; it's your nervous system doing exactly what God designed it to do—protect the temple He's entrusted to your care.
When you feel pain, often something is legitimately wrong and needs attention.
Maybe it's poor form (pride getting in the way of proper technique?), an imbalance from years of neglect, an injury brewing, or simply pushing too hard too fast because you're trying to reclaim the athlete you were at 25.
Here's the truth that might sting a little: ignoring pain doesn't make you tough or faithful—it makes you a poor steward. And injured men don't get stronger; they get sidelined from the work God has called them to do.
One of the greatest "hacks" in fitness after 50 is simply showing up 4-6 times every week and getting the workout done. Consistency wins every single time, especially when you're building (or rebuilding) your temple.
Discomfort: Where Character Is Forged
Discomfort, on the other hand, is an entirely different beast. This is what you feel when you're pushing your boundaries: cardiovascular, muscular, energy systems, or mental. It's that burning in your legs during the last 30 seconds of a workout, the voice in your head saying "maybe I should quit," or that moment when your heart feels like it might actually explode (spoiler alert: it won't).
Sound familiar? It should. This is the same kind of discomfort that builds character in every other area of life: marriage, parenting, career, spiritual growth. We don't grow in our comfort zones, and our bodies are no different.
When we push these boundaries in our 50s (or beyond), discomfort can feel overwhelming. Our brain's primary job is to keep us safe, and after decades of playing it safe, it really doesn't enjoy venturing into uncharted territory. But here's what I've learned: finding the edge of your comfort zone and pushing slightly beyond it is how you expand your capabilities. It's how you unlock new levels of fitness, both physically and mentally. It's how you prove to yourself—and model for others—that your best days aren't behind you.
The Sweet Spot: Wisdom in Training
Should you feel like you're dying after every workout? Absolutely not. That's the young man's game, and frankly, it wasn't wise then either. How often you venture into the discomfort zone depends on several factors: your goals, life stress (and let's be honest, life hits different after 50), your recovery ability, and how much your soul can handle that week.
Personally, I aim for a couple of workouts each week where I really push into some discomfort. I train six days per week, so I'm hitting that uncomfortable zone about a third of the time. The other sessions? They're still challenging and purposeful, but I'm not redlining.
Here's your reality check: if you're never pushing into the discomfort zone, you'll never know what God has equipped you to handle. But if you're going all-out every single session, you're probably sprinting toward burnout faster than you can say "metabolic conditioning."
The sweet spot is somewhere in between, and it requires the kind of wisdom that (hopefully) comes with age. It's probably at least one hard session per week, and it's definitely less than seven. Your body—the temple God gave you—will tell you what's right if you actually listen to it.
Putting Wisdom Into Practice
When you look at your workouts for the week, start thinking strategically. Which days do you want to really push it? Which ones will be more of a solid 75% effort? Remember, we're building something sustainable here, not trying to impress the 25-year-olds at the gym.
Think of intensity on a scale: low, medium, high. High intensity starts at about 67% effort—that's our floor. From there, you modulate based on what your body needs that day, what life is throwing at you, and what your recovery tells you is wise.
Some days you'll cruise at that 67%, other days you'll crank it up to 99%.
And here's a little secret that comes with the wisdom of age: there's absolutely nothing wrong with picking your favorite workouts of the week and letting those be your "push into the discomfort zone" days. Life's too short to suffer through movements you're not crazy about when you're already asking your body to do hard things.
The Bigger Picture
This isn't just about fitness—it's about stewardship. It's about honoring the body God gave you while being wise about how you care for it. It's about modeling for your kids, grandkids, and other men that taking care of yourself isn't vanity; it's responsibility.
Learn the difference between pain and discomfort. Respect the first, embrace the second strategically, and watch as you unlock capabilities you thought were gone forever. Your future self will thank you for it (assuming he can still walk after those strategically placed hard sessions).
Remember: This is your journey, and it's not over. Listen to your body, be honest about your effort, trust the process, and honor the temple you've been given to steward. The results—physical, mental, and spiritual—will follow.