I lie to myself all the time. I lied to myself yesterday when I said I was going to get up early and go for a walk this morning (But to be fair, I cannot go unless my husband goes because it is still dark out and we live in the city. He decided he didn’t want to go and wanted to sleep in). I lied to myself when I said I would go to the gym tonight after work. I’ll probably lie to myself about it tomorrow too. When will this lying stop? I’m only hurting myself by doing it. Nobody knows the promises I make to myself, and the promises I break.
I scoff at my colleague in my head when she says she doesn’t know what she needs to do to lose weight, but I am just as clueless. No, that’s not true. I do know what to do to lose weight. The problem is that I’m complacent. I’m in a relationship with a man that loves my body the way it is, my clothes fit, I don’t get fat shamed or anything else to trigger a response on my behalf. I’m just laaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaazy. And I have anxiety. And those two things together are a real bitch.
I would rather sit on my ass and read a book, or watch a movie, than work on my health and that’s pretty sad. I’m no spring chicken, the hourglass’s sand is drizzling through to the bottom at a pretty rapid speed. I need to take care of the body I have pronto before I get health problem worse than occasional knee pain.
So, do I dare make another promise to myself now? Why bother. Why bother? Because someday, one of those promises is going to stick and I’m going to follow through on it. And nobody is going to champion you but YOU. You have to be your own cheerleader sometimes. And for me, this is the time. I’m headed into beastmode territory. You watch.