Annoucer: 0:01

You're listening to Shut Up and Choose. The no bullshit, no excuses podcast for people who swear they wanna lose week choosing everything that stops them. And before we continue, if you're gonna bitch in mom and make like a fucking pussy the entire time, skip this one. Listen, Jonathan Wrestler. Listen from 140 pounds with no shots, no diamonds, no pills, and not one single fucking membership like the gym. Just real promises listen real life. If it's time to give me the time of the bullshit, and ready for somebody to finally call you up and tell you the truth, you are in the right place.

SPEAKER_01: 1:17

Hey, welcome back to Showp and Tunes Podcast. Internet, Instagram glues, social media idiots are telling me away. Telling you eat this, don't eat that. This is the diet of the day.

Jonathan Ressler: 1:34

All this stupid stuff that's out there telling you how to lose weight. And the truth is you already know how to do it. There's no shortage of information out there. At the end of the day, it all comes down to choice. And it all comes down to what's going on in your head. So I want to say something that's probably going to upset a lot of people. You're not failing your diet, your brain is rejecting it. So every time you cut calories hard, you add more training, or when you're already tired and exhausted, and then you try to push through hunger by force, your brain registers instability. It doesn't interpret what you're doing as a self-improvement, it sees it as disruption to survival. Your brain is a really important player in this weight loss thing. So the brain's primary responsibility is to keep you alive. I mean, that's pretty obvious. It's not concerned with the aesthetics or timelines. When energy intake drops quickly and your stress increases, the nervous system reads scarcity. And scarcity has always meant danger. When danger is detected, your body shifts into protection mode. And when protection activates, your preferences become completely irrelevant. Your hunger will increase because your system wants the fuel restored, and energy output suddenly decreases because conservation improves your survival odds. Thoughts about food become more intrusive because attention needs to move toward resources. These responses feel like cravings and weakness, but they're not. They're regulation. Most people misunderstand that moment because they assume that when motivation fades or overeating happens, all that happened was they lacked discipline. But what actually happened is a shitload more predictable. A surface-level decision ran into a deeply wired survival response. And at the end of the day, the deeper system won. That's why the beginning of a new diet plan often feels controlled and focused because novelty carries you and your determination is really high. The physiological alarm hasn't fully registered the change yet. And as the deficit continues and sleep shortens and daily stress accumulates, the body recalibrates and the nervous system begins to treat the pattern as an ongoing deprivation. So your food thoughts become louder and your restraint becomes heavier and your emotional bandwidth strengths. Eventually the restriction collapses. The rebound feels personal. It feels like some kind of flaw, like you fucked up. But guess what? It's not a flaw, it's a protective correction. If previous attempts at weight loss ended in exhaustion and ultimately regained the weight, your brain stores that history. It remembers those repeated cycles of restriction, followed by collapse, teach your nervous system that aggressive change leads to instability. With that learning in place, your resistance starts earlier the next time, and your body adapts to the pattern that you've shown it. You can't repeatedly signal famine conditions and expect relaxed fat loss. You can't combine high stress, low sleep, and heavy restriction and assume that your body and that your systems will just say calm. Your body is designed to defend against perceived threats. And until you account for that, you'll keep misreading the protection as sabotage. So the issue isn't character. The issue is that the strategy itself feels unsafe to the system running underneath your conscious goals. As long as your approach feels like danger, the brain is going to intervene and it's going to do it every single time. Your brain is the most important part of weight loss. So I get it, you believe that maybe you lack discipline. That's the story that you've been telling yourself for years. It's what I told myself. If I was just stronger or more focused or more committed, I could finally stick to the plan. If I had more willpower, I wouldn't break a night. If I was serious enough, I wouldn't regain the weight. And I have to be honest, that explanation feels logical, but it's also dead fucking wrong. You're trying to override survival wiring with motivation. Motivation is a conscious state, but survival wiring is automatic. One sits in the front of your brain and talks about goals and all this stupid shit. The other runs in the background and monitors threat. When those two systems disagree, the background system wins every time. Your brain's job is survival. It's constantly scanning for instability and energy intake and sleep levels and emotional stress, environmental pressure. It doesn't evaluate those variables through a moral lens, it evaluates them through risk. When you cut food aggressively, you create a sudden drop in available energy. And when you skip sleep, you impair your recovery time and increase your stress hormones. And then when you stack on your work pressure, your family pressure, relationship tension, and financial worry on top of restriction, you elevate the overall load. And when you add more rules and more rigidity and start to restrict, you increase the psychological strain. And your brain senses scarcity. Scarcity equals danger, and danger activates protection. This isn't dramatic language, it's regulatory biology. When energy becomes unpredictable, hunger signaling increases. When stress rises, the body shifts towards conservation. And when your recovery is compromised, cravings intensify because fast energy sources become more appealing. The system isn't trying to embarrass you, it's trying to stabilize you. When you hit that protection mode, it amplifies the hunger because, from a survival standpoint, shrinking in the middle of perceived instability is a poor strategy, a shitty strategy. The body prefers to hold resources until your conditions improve. That preference, it's not emotional. It's adaptive, it's built into your DNA. So you experience that as a loss of control. You experience it as cravings that feel crazy, disproportionate, and you experience it as a sudden collapse of discipline late night or after a long day of restraint. Of course, we all call that weakness, but it's not. It's protection doing its job. If you repeatedly combine aggressive restriction with high stress and low sleep, you're stacking signals that the brain interprets as unsafe. The more often you repeat that pattern, the faster the response time becomes. The nervous system is always learning and it anticipates and it begins to escalate hunger and resistance earlier in the process. I can't tell you how many times your people say, oh, as I get older, it's harder to die. No, it's you train your brain that restriction means I have to go into protection mode. Discipline isn't the missing ingredient. You can be super disciplined and still trigger defense mode. You can follow every rule perfectly on your new crazy internet plan and still feel an overwhelming desire to eat. That desire isn't a character flaw, it's the body correcting what it perceives as imbalance. If you continue to treat that as moral failure, you'll keep attacking the wrong problem. The real issue isn't that you're incapable of following through. The real issue is that your strategy repeatedly signals threat to a system designed to defend against it. So intensity is really a trap. The industry, the diet industry, and all these internet assholes sell intensity because intensity is honestly easy to market, harder, faster, stronger. The more extreme the message, the simpler it becomes. If you want extraordinary results, you have to apply extraordinary force. That's bullshit. You gotta suffer more, you gotta cut deep, you gotta push longer. That shit sounds powerful and it makes you feel serious and it makes you feel committed, but it also feels like war to your nervous system. Intensity creates dramatic shifts, large calorie cuts, aggressive cardio, strict and stupid rules, total elimination of food groups, rapid changes in your routine. And from a marketing standpoint, that looks like you're being decisive, like you're really doing something. But from a biological standpoint, it looks unstable. The first weeks of a diet, you know, they always feel controlled and focused. That novelty masks the internal signals. You're energized by this crazy new plan, whatever it is, and you're proud of the discipline. The hunger kind of feels manageable because your motivation is really high, and your internal systems have not yet fully interpreted the change as ongoing deprivation. Then the deficit continues, and the deprivation registers, your brain picks up on it. Your body recognizes that energy intake is consistently lower, your stress is higher, and your sleep might actually shorten. Your social flexibility completely tightens. The nervous system, what does it do? It recalibrates. Hunger spikes because the system wants to restore balance. Your energy drops because conservation improves survival. Food becomes louder because attention has to move toward resources. You interpret the shift as fading motivation. Your brain just escalated as a defense mechanism. I mean, the pattern is predictable. You imply intensity, the body tolerates it briefly. The body then responds proportionally. The more aggressive the input, the stronger the counter response. That counter response isn't emotional, it's regulatory. Over time, those repeated cycles of extreme dieting create learning in your brain, in your body. Every crash diet followed by burnout teaches your nervous system that aggressive change equals strain and instability. The association becomes stronger with repetition. Like anything else, the more you do it, the faster you learn, the more you learn. Dieting begins to equal pain in the background of your brain. Now, when you initiate another intense plan, the response accelerates. Hunger increases sooner, fatigue appears earlier, and your cravings become more intrusive. The body anticipates the pattern that you taught it and defends faster. From your perspective, it feels like you're getting worse at dieting. I know I always said that the older I get, the harder it is. From a biological perspective, the system has become more efficient at protecting you. Intensity might feel productive because it creates visible effort and it creates the illusion of control. It feels like you know you're being decisive. But the choice to pursue extremes comes with consequences because every extreme approach reinforces the association between fat loss and stress. If you repeatedly choose intensity as your primary strategy, you train your brain to brace for impact the moment you start. That bracing shows up as resistance, not because change is impossible, but because the method you keep selecting signals threat to your system. The trap isn't that intensity never works in the short term, because it does in the short term. It's that the intensity conditions a defensive response in the long term. If the nervous system perceives war, it prepares for survival. It's pretty straightforward. And survival always takes priority over aesthetics and over vibes. Stress changes everything. Fat loss gets hardest when your life gets crazy. Not because you suddenly forgot what to eat, not because you became incapable of following plan. It gets harder because the environment around you changes the internal signal that your brain is receiving. Breakup, burnout, financial stress, emotional overload, lack of sleep, who inscertainty about work, ongoing, those those are those are not minor variables. They're stressors that elevate the body's threat perception. Your brain doesn't interpret chaos as an opportunity for aesthetic refinement, for good vibes. It doesn't look at emotional instability and think, hey, this is an ideal moment to shrink. It thinks conserve. It goes into conservation mode. And under stress, your body shifts towards preservation. Your cortisol rises, your sleep quality drops, your capacity to recover decreases, your appetite signaling becomes dysregulated. Quick energy sources become more appealing because the system is seeking immediate stabilization. Those aren't moral failures, they're stress responses. Now, layer aggressive dieting on top of that shit. It's crazy. You restrict harder because you feel out of control in other areas. So you try to tighten food to regain structure. You add more rules, you increase your cardio, you double down. And your body does the same. It doubles down and resists harder. The nervous system is already operating under full load. It's already bracing it. When you introduce additional restriction, it doesn't see discipline, it sees compounded instability. Your hunger intensifies, your cravings feel urgent, your fat loss slows down. The more pressure you apply, the more resistance you encounter every single time. That's physiological. You can't control that. You're trying to shrink during perceived instability. From a survival standpoint, that makes little sense. If the environment feels unpredictable, holding resources improves safety. Releasing them doesn't. That's why stress weight is real. It's not mystical, it's regulatory. The body adapts to the context it perceives. And that's where most people misread the situation. They assume they need to push harder during stressful seasons. They assume that tightening your control over food is going to counteract the chaos elsewhere. But in reality, piling up restriction onto stress amplifies the threat signal in your brain. The nervous system will not release protection while it feels on. Protection can look like stall progress, it can look like persistent hunger. It can look like sudden overeating after a long day of restraint. We all know that if you fast all day and you're not planning to actually fast all day, when it's time to eat, you're going to let loose. It can look like fatigue that makes movement harder. All these responses are attempts to stabilize a system that's under strain. If you repeatedly ignore stress and choose aggressive fat loss strategy during your high pressure periods, you reinforce a pattern. Dieting becomes associated with overload. The brain begins to anticipate strain the moment you attempt change. Resistance appears earlier because the system expects instability. Stress changes everything because it changes the context in which your body regulates your actions. The same calorie deficit feels manageable during a stable season can all of a sudden become intolerable during chaos. The difference isn't character, it's not discipline, it's the load that your brain is operating under. Until you account for that, you will keep trying to solve a stress problem with more restriction. And the system will keep pushing back and pushing back harder. Here's a part that a lot of people don't want to say out loud. There's a layer to this conversation that most people avoid because it makes them uncomfortable. For some of us, weight once served a purpose. It created space or it softened the tension, it made you feel less exposed, it acted like insulation during periods when your life felt overwhelming. You may not have consciously chosen it for that reason, but the body adapted to the conditions it was placed in. The brain stores that history. If during certain seasons carrying extra weight coincided with feeling less vulnerable or less scrutinized or less pressured, your nervous system made an association. Weight equaled safety, not logically, biologically. That association doesn't disappear because you decide you want to change. When you attempt rapid transformation without addressing safety, the system evaluates risk. If shrinking feels like exposure, if visibility feels unsafe, if prior attempts to change coincide with emotional strain, the brain is going to hesitate. That hesitation shows up as resistance. It doesn't mean you're incapable of losing weight. It means the system has learned something from experience, and learning shapes responses. Every crash diet you ran reinforced the pattern. You restricted hard and endured hunger and pushed through the fatigue. But eventually, and it happens to everyone, eventually, you burned out. The weight came back, and often with a little bit of interest, alongside all the shame that you had. But the lesson stored in your nervous system was simple: change equals strain. Change equals instability. Change equals punishment. When that message repeats enough times, the brain begins to anticipate the cost of change. That anticipation creates defense. And that defense increases hunger and lowers your energy and drives behavior back toward familiarity. From the outside, it looks like self-sabotage. I get it, it definitely does. But internally, it's pattern recognition. The nervous system doesn't trust the punishment. If your history with weight loss is filled with harsh rules and exhaustion and rebound, any new attempt that resembles that structure is going to trigger caution. Even if your conscious mind is determined, the deeper system that you can't control is evaluating risk. That's why aggressive overhauls always collapse. The body has memory. It remembers the aftermath of all your extremes. It remembers the fatigue and the regain. And when you initiate another rapid shift, another crash diet, it prepares for the same outcome. And I get that that preparation can feel like resistance, but it's important to understand this without turning it into drama. You're not broken and you're not uniquely damaged. You're just adaptive. The system learned from repetition. If weight once functioned as armor, the solution isn't to rip it off with force. If dieting has historically felt like punishment, and I know for most of us it does, the solution is not to punish yourself harder. Sustainable change requires teaching your nervous system a new association. That change can equal stability. Change can occur without collapse. Until that new association is built, the brain's going to default to what it knows: protection first and change later. So, what works? I mean, how do you remove the threat? If the problem has been repeated signals of danger, the solution begins with small, smart adjustments that communicate stability, not dramatic overhauls. No heroic efforts, strategic restraint. Large swings create large reactions. Small intelligent changes create trust. So start by removing the behaviors that trigger defense mode. Extreme calorie deficits send a clear message of skill. Scarcity. They might produce rapid scale movement, but they're also going to activate protection. A moderate deficit, on the other hand, maintained consistently, communicates control without panic. The body responds differently to steady reduction than it does to sharp drops. Starvation cycles just fucking need to end. Alternating between rigid restriction and uncontrolled binge overeating teaches the nervous system that food availability is unpredictable. And predictability actually matters. Regular meals, adequate protein, sufficient total intake. They're not indulgences, they're signals of safety. This is why I say all or nothing shit never works. All or nothing patterns create instability. When the plan only works under perfect conditions, the slightest disruption leads to collapse. Replace those extremes with structure that tolerates imperfection. Structure that's not rigid. It's got to be repeatable. And here's one. Punishing workouts when you're wiped out also reinforce threat. Training should stimulate adaptation, not compound stress. If your sleep is shitty and your life pressure is through the roof, adding more intensity increases the load. Smart progression, doing a little bit at a time, outperforms emotional reactions. So eat enough to signal stability. That doesn't mean overeating, it means removing the perception of famine. Hunger should always be present, but manageable, not urgent, and not overwhelming. When intake supports recovery, the body doesn't feel cornered. Another thing you have to focus on is sleep. You have to sleep seven or eight hours a night. Sleep regulates your hunger hormones and your stress response and your decision-making capacity. Chronic sleep restriction, which I was unbelievably guilty of forever, amplifies cravings and reduces your impulse control. Improving sleep is not secondary to fat loss. It is foundational. You have to create a predictable structure. So regular meal timing, consistent training days, which I never had. I don't train. I don't go to the gym. I don't walk, but I don't do anything in the gym at all. You don't need the gym to lose weight. A defined bedtime routine, I kind of have that. Predictability lowers the cognitive load and it reduces the perceived chaos from your brain. The nervous system relaxes when your patterns are reliable. So consistency teaches your brain safety. Safety lowers your resistance. When the body begins to trust the food isn't disappearing and exhaustion isn't the goal, your hunger will normalize. Your energy stabilizes and your cravings lose the urgency. And as a result, fat loss becomes steady rather than volatile. None of this shit is dramatic, and that's the point. Small, smart choices repeated daily, recondition your system. You're not forcing your body into submission. You're showing it that change can occur without a threat. Over time, those repeated signals reshape your brain's response. Your resistance fades because the danger signal fades and stability becomes your new baseline. That's how you remove the threat, not with intensity, with intelligent consistency. So once you remove the obvious threat signals, the next step is a little bit deeper. You have to condition trust, not hype, not temporary excitement, trust. Your brain does not respond to promises, it responds to patterns. It needs proof that food is consistently available, proof that rest is part of the plan, and proof that this phase will not end in exhaustion and rebound like the last five, ten, or fifteen attempts. Without that proof, the nervous system stays guarded. And trust is built through repetition. Boring, repeatable habits beat dramatic shifts. So eat similar foods most days. I ate pretty much the same stuff on repeat for weeks at a time. I'm not saying I ate the same breakfast, lunch, and dinner, but I had a small group of meals that I ate, and in my body knew what to expect. And don't do that because variety is bad, because I just said it's not, but predictability reduces your brain's perceived risk. So a moderate deficit that you can sustain for months teaches your body that energy intake is controlled and not chaotic. So if you're one of those people that goes, I'm going to have a thousand calorie restriction a day, it's ridiculous. There's no way you can keep that up. You might be able to maintain it for a week or two or three, but over time, over the long haul, you're not going to be able to control that. And your body is going to fight back. If you're going to do strength training, do with intention. Training should challenge the body without overwhelming it. Can't tell you how many times I was going to start a new gym routine and I went to the gym and I was so sore I couldn't move for two days. Movement should enhance regulation, not compound stress. And when your workout leaves you wiped out for days, the message is strain. When they leave you stimulated but still functional, the message is adaptation. Here's one that I've worked hard on, and that's to lower your life chaos before cutting harder. If work is fucked up or your sleep is shitty and your relationship is tense, pushing into a deeper deficit almost never works. Your nervous system evaluates the total load, not the isolated variable. So reducing the background stress creates the capacity for change. Conditioning trust also means eliminating the patterns of sudden overcorrection. So no more punishing yourself after a high calorie day. Just accept it. Just accept it and move on. No more doubling cardio out of guilt. Those reactions reinforce instability. Stability is the objective here. So over time, as your body experiences consistent intake and adequate sleep, and structured movement and the absence of punishment, something shifts. Hunger becomes more predictable. Cravings lose their edge. Emotional reactivity around food decreases. Your system relaxes because it no longer anticipates crisis. When your nervous system trusts the process, your urges soften, they go away, and progress becomes steady. So it may not be dramatic and it may not be fast enough for social media, but it becomes durable and sustainable. You stop oscillating between control and collapse, and you stop fearing regain because you're no longer operating on extremes. That is conditioning, not motivation. Motivation fluctuates with mood and circumstances in your environment. Conditioning reshapes responses through repetition, and every stable day reinforces the message that change doesn't equal a threat. And every week of consistent behavior strengthens that association. So eventually the new pattern becomes the default. Not because you forced it, but because you trained it. Trust is earned through evidence. Give your brain enough evidence and it will cooperate. So look, you don't need more willpower. If willpower are the answer, you'd already be done. We would have been done years ago. You've proven you can be disciplined for days or even a couple weeks. I mean, you've proven that you can tolerate hunger, and you've proven that you can follow the rules. The issue has never been effort, the issue has been the strategy. We all keep selecting plans that feel like fucking punishment. Severe restriction, crazy ass rules, emotional self-attack when you slip. That approach creates internal friction. Your nervous system reads it as strain, and when strain builds, the system automatically pushes back. If your plan feels like punishment, your brain will block it. It'll increase hunger, it'll reduce energy, it'll make food seem louder, and it'll nudge you back towards what feels stable. Again, not because you're weak, but because the system is doing its job. But if your plan feels sustainable, your brain is going to allow it. And that doesn't mean easy. It means repeatable. It means your deficit is moderate, your sleep is protected and valued. Your training is progressive, not insane, not reckless. Your food is structured, not chaotic. Stress is acknowledged and not ignored. Over time, that pattern builds trust. And trust reduces resistance. And resistance dropping is what makes fat loss steady. I lost 140 pounds, a little bit more, not by hating myself or by starving, and not by trying to dominate my body in submission. I lost it by stopping the war. For years, for 59 years, I believed the solution was to push harder. And when progress slowed down, I would cut out even more. When hunger rose, I tightened the control. When I slipped, I punished myself. Every one of those cycles reinforced the same lesson. Aggression created backlash. The shift happened when I stopped treating my body like an opponent. I stopped using intensity as proof of commitment, and I stopped chasing dramatic short-term drops. I started asking a different question. Can I repeat this under stress? Can I sustain this during busy weeks or my shittiest day? And can I maintain it when life is imperfect? Those questions changed everything. You're never going to be able to bully your biology. It just isn't possible. You can't out-argue your nervous system and you can't override your survival wiring with slogans and hype. You can't demand cooperation from a system that feels threatened. You can, on the other hand, train it. And training doesn't happen in that single dramatic shift in an Instagram moment. It happens through repetition. A moderate deficit, consistent sleep, structured movement, emotional neutrality around food. Weeks turn into months, and months turn into a new baseline. That's where I got to. The difference between force and training is durability. Force creates volatility, and training creates stability. Stability creates results that last. If you're stuck in the cycle of intensity followed by collapse, it's not because you lack grit. It's because you keep choosing strategies that trigger defense. Stop chasing impressive plans. Start chasing repeatable. Stop measuring the commitment by suffering and how much you can tolerate. Start measuring it by consistency. Your body is not your enemy. It's an adaptive, incredible system responding to the inputs you provide. Change the inputs and the output shifts. That's not motivational bullshit. That's pure and simple physiology. The war ends when you stop trying to win it. So look, if you want reinforcement while you build a new pattern, that's why I created my free weekly tips. One direct message every week that cuts the noise and pulls you back when your brain drifts towards comfort and old habits. They're short, they're sharp, and they're actionable. You can get those at my website, JonathanRestell.com. If you want the full philosophy behind everything you heard here today, read my book. Same name, Shut Up and Choose. It explains how behavior shapes identity, when motivation keeps collapsing, and how to build patterns that hold up under pressure. It's not a diet plan, it's a framework for permanent change. You can get that on Amazon. We're an Amazon bestseller. Great reviews for the book. If you're finished guessing and want something to strip this shit down to what actually matters in your life, that's what my one-on-one work is for. We remove the threat signals and we build the structure that fits your schedule. We create daily actions that you can repeat until they become who you are. It's direct, it's honest, and it requires some effort. And it works because it replaces chaos with controlled pattern. If you're ready for that level of accountability, and I promise you it's not easy, and I'm not going to coddle you, I'm not going to kiss your ass and tell you, oh, you're doing such good. I'm going to tell you when you fuck up. If you're ready for that level of accountability, reach out to me directly. My email, it's Jr at JonathanRestell.com. I look at everyone, I read every email myself. I don't have an assistant. There's no scripts. There's just a real conversation about where you are and where you want to go. So at the end of the day, transformation doesn't come from learning more. It comes from executing differently, from repeating smarter patterns until they become automatic. So you take the first step when you stop fighting yourself and you finally shut up and choose.

Annoucer: 35:14

Thanks for listening to Shut Up and Choose. If today's episode slapped you with some truth, good, that means it worked, and you've dropped the pussy attitude. Make sure to like, rate, and review. And connect with Jonathan on Instagram at Jonathan WrestlerFatLoss. On YouTube at Jonathan Wrestler, and Jonathan Wrestler. No gimmicks, no excuses, no bullshit. Smaller choices. Starting the second you hit stop on this episode. Jonathan Choose. Now go make a better fucking choice.