Lent Is Not a Detox: What the Gym Taught Me About Real Penance

Wednesday, February 4, 2026

Rob Sexton - -

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Every January, gyms fill up.

Every February, they empty.

If you’ve ever had a gym membership—or at least driven past one—you already know this story. January is full of hope, optimism, and brand-new sneakers. By Valentine’s Day, most treadmills are lonely again, quietly humming to themselves like abandoned exercise bikes in a zombie movie.

Lent has a similar reputation.

For a lot of Catholics—especially teens and young adults—Lent feels like a spiritual “detox month.” We give up soda. Or social media. Or chocolate. Or, in a particularly ambitious year, all three. We grit our teeth, count the days, and when Easter arrives… we go right back to normal.

But here’s the thing: real fitness doesn’t work that way. And neither does real conversion.

Lent Is Training Season, Not Punishment

When I first started lifting weights, I thought progress meant suffering. More pain meant more results. If I wasn’t sore, exhausted, or borderline miserable, I assumed I wasn’t “doing it right.”

That mindset led to a lot of burnout—and a few injuries.

Eventually, I learned something that experienced athletes already know: training is not about punishment; it’s about formation. You don’t punish your body into strength. You train it—intentionally, progressively, and patiently.

Lent works the same way.

The Church doesn’t give us Lent because God enjoys watching us suffer. Lent exists because our loves are disordered, our habits need retraining, and our souls—like our bodies—respond to structure, discipline, and purpose.

Fasting isn’t about proving toughness.

Penance isn’t about self-hatred.

Discipline isn’t about earning God’s approval.

It’s about reordering desire.

No One Accidentally Gets Strong

One of the biggest lies in both fitness and faith is this: “I’m doing fine.”

In the gym, that usually means:

• You move around a lot
• You’re not totally out of shape
• You assume that’s “enough”

But strength doesn’t come from being busy—it comes from intentional resistance. You don’t accidentally build muscle. You apply load, recover, adapt, and repeat.

Spiritually, many of us do the same thing. We go to Mass. We say a few prayers. We’re decent people. We’re “fine.”

Lent interrupts that complacency.

It’s the Church saying: What if there’s more?

More freedom.

More clarity.

More love.

And just like the gym, that “more” requires resistance.

Why Lent Feels Hard (And Why That’s a Good Sign)

Anyone who’s ever trained seriously knows about plateaus—those seasons where progress slows, motivation disappears, and everything feels heavier than it should.

In the spiritual life, that experience is often called dryness.

Prayer feels boring.

Mass feels flat.

God feels distant.

A lot of people quit here—both in faith and in fitness.

But here’s the secret: dryness usually means you’re past the beginner stage. Early gains are easy. Early consolations are sweet. But real growth begins when feelings stop carrying you and discipline takes over.

That’s what Lent trains.

Showing up when you don’t feel like it.

Saying no when your instincts say yes.

Choosing God when there’s no emotional payoff.

That’s not failure. That’s maturity.

The Problem With “Extreme” Lenten Goals

Every year, someone announces they’re giving up:

• Sugar
• Streaming
• Music
• Coffee
• Social media
• And joy, apparently

Then two weeks in, they’re exhausted, irritable, and wondering why Lent made them worse.

In fitness, we call this overtraining.

Too much intensity, too soon, leads to burnout—not growth.

The saints understood this better than we do. Holiness is not about doing everything. It’s about doing what God is actually asking of you, in your real life, with your real limits.

A quiet, faithful Lent beats an impressive one every time.

So What Should You “Give Up”?

Here’s a better question:

What habit is shaping you right now—and where is it taking you?

Maybe Lent isn’t about giving up chocolate.

Maybe it’s about giving up:

• Mindless scrolling
• Constant noise
• Reactive anger
• Avoiding silence

In the gym, progress comes when you identify your weak points and train them directly.

Lent does the same thing—for the soul.

And just like fitness, the goal isn’t six weeks of intensity. The goal is a new baseline when Easter comes.

Easter Bodies Are Made in Lent

No one walks into the gym expecting results in a week. We understand that bodies change slowly, invisibly, before anything shows on the surface.

Souls work the same way.

Lent isn’t about being miserable until Easter. It’s about becoming free enough to receive Easter when it comes.

So this Lent, don’t treat it like a detox or a dare.

Treat it like training.

Show up.

Stay consistent.

Trust the process.

God isn’t looking for spiritual influencers or extreme athletes. He’s forming saints—one disciplined rep at a time.