When Cooking Feels Like a Workout—And Why That’s a Good Thing

I recently read a post by one of my favorite writers where he described his relationship with the gym as a kind of daily torture. He goes because he knows it’s good for him. He even created a fictional character who promotes the theory that aging means we should increase physical load, not reduce it. And yet, he drags himself to the gym and dreads it the whole time. His big question: how do some people actually enjoy this?

That question stuck with me, because I hear a similar kind of frustration from people when they talk about cooking. They know it’s important—especially as we get older and our bodies stop forgiving the shortcuts. They want to eat well, cook at home, take care of themselves and their loved ones. But somehow, the kitchen becomes a place of dread. A chore. A punishment. Something to be avoided or outsourced.

But what if the kitchen could become something else entirely?What if cooking—like a workout—wasn’t just something you survive, but something you look forward to?

Mindful in the Kitchen—The Mindset Shift That Changes Everything

In response to that writer’s gym lament, I wrote a comment sharing my own experience. I do enjoy the gym. Not because I distract myself with videos, music, or audiobooks, but because I’m completely focused on what’s happening in my body. I listen to my breath. I observe which muscles respond to which movements. I notice how effort changes when I adjust my posture or shift my attention. It’s not just physical—it’s a kind of dialogue with my body.

And the exact same thing happens in the kitchen. With cooking and eating. Sure, you can read or watch something while you eat—I loved doing that in my younger days! It felt like a waste to spend time just eating.

But now, I eat in a way that engages all my senses—100% consciously. That includes preparing the food. I enjoy the flavors, aromas, textures. I try to serve food beautifully, at the right temperature, with intention. If you just mindlessly toss something into your mouth, you miss out on a whole world of pleasure. I believe the secret to enjoying what you do is exactly that: being present. Giving your full attention to the action itself.

We crave comfort food—but what if the act of cooking it could comfort you just as much?

In a world full of distractions and demands, that kind of attention is rare—and powerful.

The Story of a Student Who Learned to Listen

A while ago, I had a client who had just retired from a long career in the K-9 unit. For the first time in decades, he had free time. And he decided to use it to learn how to cook—for himself.

He already knew what foods supported his health. He was in excellent shape. But he wanted to reconnect with something deeper—his roots. We focused on American-Italian cooking, built around ingredients that worked for his diet. He came to regular classes for over six months. And over time, I watched something shift.

He didn’t just become more confident in the kitchen—he became curious. We talked a lot during the meals he made at the end of each class. He began noticing subtle things: how a sauce thickens, how different ingredients behave, how temperature changes flavor and texture. He started experimenting at home. Eventually, he began making full dinners for his wife—still working, still busy—and took real pride in it. Not just in feeding her, but in the quiet pleasure of doing it well.

Cooking, for him, had become a form of presence. Of care. Of meaning. I hope he became a great cook over the years!

What Gets in the Way

So why do so many people struggle to enjoy cooking—even when they want to?

Some of it is emotional. If you’ve spent years rushing through meals, multitasking at the table, or viewing food only as fuel, it can be hard to slow down. Some of it is cultural—convenience is king, and cooking is often framed as labor. And some of it is practical: the kitchen can feel like unfamiliar territory, especially if you’re starting (or restarting) later in life.

But here’s the thing: you don’t have to love cooking to start loving how it feels to be present with your food.

Studies have shown that eating mindfully—noticing textures, flavors, aromas—leads to greater satisfaction, less overeating, and a stronger emotional connection to the experience of eating. Cooking is the step before that. It’s a doorway to the same benefits.

When we start paying attention—not just to what we eat, but to how we prepare it—we tap into something deeper. It’s not about perfection. It’s about curiosity.

A Simple Task for You

Consider this a personal invitation. Next time you eat—whether it’s a carefully prepared dish or a quick meal—give yourself just a few minutes to really be there. Try this:

Try this!

1. Look at your food. How many colors are on your plate? Do all the elements have the texture or shape you expected? Is there anything surprising or new among them?

2. Smell it slowly. Can you pick out individual ingredients by scent? What aromas rise first? Are there any that catch you off guard?

3. Take one bite with your full attention. What flavors come forward right away? What happens as you chew?

4. Notice how it feels. What’s the texture like? What’s happening in your body—are you more relaxed? More focused? You might notice your body settling a bit—breath slowing, mind quieting. That’s not an accident.

5. Pause after you swallow. What’s one thing you noticed that you usually miss?

You don’t have to do this at every meal. Just once is enough to remind yourself what it’s like to really enjoy your food.

Cooking as a Form of Connection

We often think of food as something we give to others. But what if it’s also something we give to ourselves? Not just nutrients, but attention. Not just calories, but care.

Cooking, like working out, can feel like effort at first. It can even feel like punishment if that’s the story we’ve been telling ourselves. But effort isn’t the enemy. It’s the path. And on the other side of it is something incredibly rewarding: presence, confidence, and yes—real enjoyment.

So the next time cooking feels like a workout…Maybe that’s not such a bad thing after all.