Thursday, January 24, 2013
It takes 21 days to make or break a habit. I like to think I broke poor eating choices and made healthier decisions, but today felt like day one all over again. I've enjoyed my positive changes until this morning. It's superficial and silly, but I feel like a failure having not lost any weight this week - and I realize the scale isn't the end all be all - though I think I'm more dissappointed that I know what I SHOULD be doing.
Yesterday it was glass half full. I used the status update for the first time, making my intentions public so that I could be held accountable and failed. Logging in today was just a reminder of that. It has manifested into what feels like an absolutely miserable mood with a dread of eating dinner. My stomach is growling, I'm tired, and a little pissed off. I acknowledge this and yet feel so helpless.
Don't get me wrong, I'll be eating dinner soon, and will keep it appropriately balanced with loads of water, but I will feel like it's a pointless chore if I can't get myself active. Getting active is a ridiculous fear too. I used to swim 6 hours a day for 8 years of my life. I completed sprint triathlons. I used to jump on boxes because some coach was yelling at me. I ran soft sand beaches and swam jetties. I even jogged five miles on pavement, barefoot, with a truck yelling profane ideas at me the entire time (beach lifeguarding is a little like its own fraternity).
So why the hell am I so afraid to step on a damn treadmill?
I hate realizing how much I've lost as a result of this gain. I hope to produce a more positive blog soon...