Recommitting

I have a confession. I've been bad. Really bad. I've become incredibly lax lately. I recognize in myself a dangerous contentment. My clothes fit again. I feel human again instead of some huge blob. I'm willing to look at my own picture again. There's an incredibly loquacious little devil on my shoulder. It tells me I've done good enough. It tells me things are only going to get more complicated from here on out. It asks me if I really want to toss my entire wardrobe (as if I'm anywhere close to having to do that) and start new. What I have is so cute on me, it says. It promises me that maintaining at this point will be easy, and I won't have to kill myself in the gym anymore. I must admit, I've been tempted by the sneaky little git.

Last week I allowed myself to extend my exercise hiatus. I let life stand as an acceptable excuse to only exercise once. I assured myself I was too busy. All lies of course, but what is done is done. This week I'm back in the gym. I've reunited with my TurboFire. My body thanked me with a release of endorphins the likes of which I haven't experienced before. For the first time I can honestly say I enjoyed the way I felt after my workout. No, you read right. I said I enjoyed it. That may be the only admission you get out of me so commit it to memory. Don't get me wrong, I in no way regret my "vacation" but I do recognize that I let myself drag my feet in coming back to what I need to be doing.

I haven't only been bad about my exercise. I've been sneaking myself food. That mouthy minion I mentioned whispered to me that I've been good enough to give myself rewards. Since I wanted them, I agreed, not seeing it for the trap it was. I found myself sliding off of my "don't cook it don't eat it" horse. I found myself letting more prepackaged foods pass my lips, telling myself that they said things like "all natural" and "organic" and "whole grain" and so they must be okay. Then I found myself eating cupcakes...on several occasions. I stopped keeping track of how many times I ate out. I let myself figure that if I couldn't remember it, it must not have been good enough to count. I've rationalized with myself that if I purchase a precooked meal at the grocery store it wasn't really eating out; it was more like grocery shopping. The only thing I haven't let myself go on is my soda rule. I've been deceiving and cajoling myself and for my troubles I've undone nearly a month's worth of progress. Forgive me readers, for I have sinned.

So I am here and now reaffirming my commitment to me. I hereby promise that I will cook my own food from only the freshest natural ingredients (side note: I am so glad to see a little variety at the farmer's market finally after the dearth of winter veggie options. If you haven't been, you should totally go.). I hereby swear to faithfully and consistently exercise with no excuses permitted. I furthermore aver that I will no longer allow myself to trip over my own complacency. I WILL reach my goal. Take that to the bank, baby!