In Part 1, I shared a moment where one simple question quietly unraveled an entire room of shared certainty.
How did the nail get there?
This follow up is about what happens when you finally remove the nail and then return someone to the environment that put it there.
Enter Landon
Over the last two decades, I have had several immersive coaching experiences. In a handful of cases, clients lived with me for extended periods of time. Months, not days.
Landon was approaching fifty. He struggled with his weight and chronic foot pain. Like many people, he had spent much of his adult life cycling between effort and disappointment.
He often spoke proudly about a period years earlier when he participated in a national fitness challenge. He trained hard. He followed the plan. He transformed himself. And then, slowly, life happened.
Landon and I worked together twice per week for nearly a year. He got stronger. He moved better. But to both of our frustrations, his body did not change much.
We got along well. He invited me to family parties and social events. His wife, Darlene, was ten years younger. An avid runner. A strength athlete. Built like a small action figure.
Friends and family regularly commented on how lucky Landon was. How did he land such a smoke show?
Darlene loved Landon. She also loved the attention. In every relationship, there is a dynamic, spoken or unspoken. I do not subscribe to the reacher and settler trope, but there was a noticeable imbalance in admiration.
The Nail As I Understood It
From my perspective, Landon had everything he needed. A supportive home. A spouse with aligned goals. Access to training and guidance.
The nail seemed obvious.
Drink more water. Eat more protein and fiber. Plan indulgences instead of letting them happen accidentally. Walk every day.
Landon insisted he was doing everything I suggested and that it simply was not working.
I believed him.
The Immersive Experiment
I offered Landon an unconventional option. Live with me for twelve weeks.
He had a goal of losing fifty pounds by his fiftieth birthday. I wanted to see it happen for him.
He moved in.
He ate what I ate. Slept when I slept. Walked in the morning. Walked after dinner. I stuffed him so full of food most days he could not finish his meals.
The weight fell off him.
In ten weeks, with simple protein, fat, and fiber targets and unlimited vegetables, Landon dropped fifty pounds. He was in the best shape he had been in for fifteen years.
I felt vindicated.
People noticed. Compliments rolled in.
Landon, you look amazing.
Landon, you are handsome.
Darlene, you better watch out. Landon is turning into a hottie.
Darlene laughed it off. But something subtle shifted. I could feel it.
The Return Home
After ten weeks, we began transitioning Landon back home.
He felt confident. Strong. Proud. He had hit his goal.
I joined his family for his first meal back.
That is when I saw it.
Darlene encouraging him to eat more. Pushing seconds. Suggesting thirds. Dessert.
Landon politely declined. Several times.
Then he caved.
Revisiting the Nail Through Adria’s Eyes
Looking back now, this is where Adria’s question echoes loudest.
This is how the nail got there.
It was not about discipline. Or motivation. Or willpower. It was not about “stacking” habits or compliance.
Landon’s change disrupted the relational equilibrium.
Darlene loved Landon. She also loved being the admired one. When attention shifted, so did the environment.
Not consciously. Not maliciously.
Automatically.
Landon was trying to overcome the most powerful force in his life every single day and did not even realize it.
The Investment Named
The real investment here was not nutrition, training, or discipline.
And to be clear, I thought it was.
I believed that if we just leaned harder into protein targets, daily movement, planned indulgences, and stacking the right behaviors, the problem would resolve itself. From a coaching perspective, that approach made complete sense.
But in this case, the most important investment was not another behavior.
It was auditing the environments that quietly depended on Landon staying the same.
This is a central idea inside Health401k®. Behavior does not exist in isolation. It is a reflection of the environments we inhabit and the identities those environments protect.
When the environment remains unchanged, even the right behaviors struggle to survive.
Why This Matters Across Dimensions
- social: Relationships often reward stability over growth, even when growth is healthy.
- emotional: Change can trigger fear or loss in others, not just in ourselves.
- environmental: Home environments can quietly reinforce behaviors we are trying to leave behind.
- physical: No amount of information can overcome an environment that resists change.
- intellectual: Understanding systems beats stacking tactics.
Turning the Lens Back to You
Most people believe their greatest obstacles live inside their own lack of discipline.
Often, the real resistance lives outside of them.
Who benefits from you staying the same?
What shifts socially if you change?
Are your environments designed to support your growth or preserve familiarity?
These are not comfortable questions. But they are powerful ones.
Sometimes, removing the nail is easy.
Preventing it from returning requires a deeper kind of investment.
Read Adria’s initial question regarding the nail in
Part 1.
Ryan Travis Woods