Hey, remember that time that I was super peppy, enthusiastic, full of "spark," and totally gung-ho about living healthy?

Yeah, I miss that.

I don't know what's gotten into me, lately, but everything health-related is getting less and less invigorating. I mean, even the spark-wheel--I've been getting 2/3 points for my daily spin and 5 for my bonus spins for about a week now!

Everything is just sort of .

I'm tired and disinterested in eating right and working out. I go to work, and see the kids eating fresh-baked biscuits for breakfast while getting chips and fruit gummies in their lunch and I think to myself, "...I want that." I'm not even hungry, I just want to eat it. I want to eat the stash of chocolate in my kitchen that's been sitting there for MONTHS. I want to eat the cadburry eggs stashed in my bedside table that I keep for emergencies (sadness emergencies, of which there have been very few of this year, thank goodness!).

I want to binge.

I am physically tired and I don't want to work out. I get to the gym and take the classes and think to myself, "Eh. This is alright, I guess." I took my second step class today. Note to self: never mentally make fun of step classes ever again. They're a phenomenal work out, and pretty fun...if I could only feel more into it. I know that I would have found the class more enjoyable on a normal day, but I was just going through the motions, working hard. I didn't even notice how hard I was working until she told us to take our pulse--mine was at 180. ONE HUNDRED EIGHTY. Per minute. That's 94%. That's working out too much, and you know the weirdest thing? I could barely feel it. I didn't feel any more fatigued then I was when I walked into the class, and so I didn't notice that I was overworking myself.

This morning, my boss (Mr. J, as I shall now call him) was going to take the kids to school himself because his DS1 didn't have school, so I had the opportunity to sleep in. Boyfriend wouldn't take no for an answer--I HAD to sleep in, because I was so tired.

I planned this weeks lunch/dinner menu yesterday, he and I hit the store last night to get what we were missing, we made homemade salsa because I'm going to throw Slow-Cook Salsa Chicken together for tonight and I'm watching sodium. I have some (okay, a lot) of picking up around the apartment I need to do because I just haven't had the time.

And I'm just tired.

I realize I've stretched myself too thin. I work FT M-F. Saturday, I go to my second job and tutor in the morning, then go to play at Faire in the afternoon. This is my primary relax time. Sunday, I go to my (technically) third job at Faire and work all day.

I know I'm stretched thin, but it's only until the end of October, and I LOVE Faire. I don't want to give it up. And I'm keeping my tutoring job so that I can keep working with the company and maybe get a FT position there (which would pay better than what I have, and I think I'd find it more interesting/challenging).

So what am I going to do? How will I keep myself motivated?

Well, actually, that isn't a problem for me. I'm not motivated, sure. I'm tired, and I want to be "bad." But if there is one good trait I have, it is this: No one, ever, is more stubborn than I am when it comes to accomplishing what I set out to do with efficiency and quality. I realized this the summer after my senior year of high school when I was working at Girl Scout camp. I would be running around on less than five hours of sleep per night, high energy, keeping kids in line, helping kids with homesickness, and going over and beyond what I needed to do as a camp counselor. Why?

Because I had decided that I had no other choice. Failure is not an option.

Here's the deal: I tell myself that failure is not an option. That means that there is no other choice but to succeed. I can't binge, because that's not an option. Don't tell me it physically is because my brain is convinced that it is literally impossible.

When I was in college, I had the worst case of ovarian cysts. I ended up in the hospital over Sunday night/Monday morning. I got home around 1:00 AM. I had to wake up and go back to the hospital for some testing at 7:00 AM. My professors had been e-mailed that I might not make it to class. I returned from the hospital around 12:30. I had a physics class at 1:40, and we had a test that day. I took a quick shower, got my stuff together, and went to class.

My professor asked me, "Weren't you in the hospital? You can make this test up--it's okay!"

I responded, "Yes, but the test is today, so I will take it today."

I did okay on the test. I did about as well as I normally did--Physics wasn't really my forte. But I took it because, in my mind, that was what I had to do.

I took my finals while I had mono. Why? Because, what, I wasn't going to NOT take them, was I?

When I was teaching and felt a cold coming on, I would take Dayquil, Nightquil, Emergen-C, suck on menthols, and gargle water with cayenne powder. And heck if that cold didn't scramble and run. I was going to teach, I was going to work, because I had no other choice. Failure is not an option.

So will I binge? No. Binging would cause me to fail, and failure is not an option.

Will I stop exercising? No. Laziness is failure, and failure is not an option.

Will I stop tracking? No. That would be a failure, and failure is not an option.

Obviously, I will rest. Obviously, I will enjoy "naughty" foods and not be strict all the time. That isn't failure, that is resting. That is taking a break. I will probably have a beer or two at Faire this Saturday, and I'm looking forward to it. But I will track it, and I will make sure I don't go TOO crazy in calories.

But I will keep going. I will endure. And, at some point, this funk that I am in will end.

Why?

Because if it doesn't, then that's a failure.

And failure is not an option.