At the start of this year, I made a loud and confident declaration to everyone around me that I would finally shed my portly belly and get back to the flat abs I had years ago.

I had been gently warned. Dr Ruchira Tendolkar, the soft-spoken sport-fitness specialist at the gym I visit, attempted to temper my expectations. “It will take time,” she said.

I was telling her about the literature I was reading, the new tricks I had discovered, and the ambitious goals I had set myself.

I was quoting, in other words, from the self-help industrial complex; a multi-million-dollar industry predicated on the idea that all one needs, in order to accomplish a goal, is willpower and a multi-step programme.

Every element of this industry, from the books and vlogs to Reels and videos, carries the message of “See? It’s that simple. You can do it too!”

Spoiler alert: No, I could not. My slowed metabolism is simply a medical fact. Willpower cannot change it. In chasing the goal I had set myself, I went to war with this fact. I tweaked my diet, added supplements, meticulously followed a gruelling exercise schedule even when body and mind were pleading for a break.

The more I tried to “hack” my body, the less cooperative it seemed to become. It was as if my metabolism developed a rebellious streak.

I moved from determination to frustration… to amusement. The body doesn’t care how many motivational quotes you’ve consumed and abs don’t appear because you visualised them hard enough.

I began to admit to myself what I think we all know, in our core. That fitness influencers are really addressing a rather small demographic: people with a certain assumed fitness level, at a certain stage of their lives. On a slight tangent, I wish they would admit this, so that their relentless positivity doesn’t feel like a mockery of their audience’s ongoing struggle.

For my part, I am willing to admit that my fitness journey will be less like a race and more like a long, slow hike, where the destination is constantly just out of view, but at least one is on the right path.

I will gladly admit that Dr Tendolkar was right. It takes time. There is nothing — at least, nothing healthy and sustainable — one can do to change that.

There is something liberating about finally letting go of the obsessive pursuit of that six-pack.

I can now enjoy the process of getting fitter. My workouts have stopped being a frantic dash toward an unrealistic goal, and have become something I look forward to. I like the way my body feels stronger and more capable, even if those abs are still missing-in-action.

Maybe this was the lesson I needed: that some things take time, even in the age of AI. That not everything is in my control.

That, sometimes, the best hack is to stop hacking and slow down; appreciate the journey. Time is such a gift in itself. Why pack every minute with tasks and expectations, when we could just enjoy it?

Something about crossing 50 is making me see that the trick isn’t to “win the race”. It is, really, to stop racing all the time.

(Charles Assisi is co-founder of Founding Fuel. He can be reached on assisi@foundingfuel.com)