I didn’t make New Year’s resolutions this year. There were some things I needed to do physically, spiritually, professionally, etc., but they were things that needed to be done and I didn’t want to stigmatize them with the “resolution” label because those inevitably get broken early on (at least by me).
One of the top three items was working out again. If you’ve followed my fitness journey, then you know it’s had it’s ups and downs. First, I truly hate working out. Second, I truly hate mornings but know it’s the only possible time I can make a work out fit. For nearly a year I did a CrossFit boot camp that really challenged me. I would go two to three times a week, mere moments from my house, and I got in great shape and weighed a pound less than I did on my wedding day last May for my fifth wedding anniversary (and nearly 20 lbs lighter than I was when I got pregnant).
Well, I took the fall off. And when I say off, I mean OFF. I literally did not work out one single solitary day except for chasing toddlers (which is the only reason I don’t weigh 200 lbs right now). To really hit the ball out of the park, I also ate whatever I wanted to – I mean, heck, I WAS chasing toddlers. And I proceeded to gain 20 pounds in five months. A record for me. A shameful record I might add. All of that hard work out the window, and for what. Some pizza and queso? A few extra winks of sleep?
I admit this not because I want to, but because this my accountability tool. Why do I have to fall so far off the bandwagon after making so much progress? What’s so hard about maintenance?
The reality is bad actions have consequences. Not only is the consequence my health, we all know fluctuating that wildly with your weight is unacceptable, but it’s what it takes to work my way back. This week I started a new boot camp (as my last one was cancelled, hence my calling it quits for a while). This torturous boot camp is not only kicking my butt across Westheimer, but it also is FOUR mornings a week. Monday through Thursday. I can barely walk today. And I can’t say I’m salivating over my spinach salad with grilled chicken for lunch. HOWEVER, the alternative is not working my way back. Being out of shape for myself, my kids and my husband. Not respecting the temple that God gave me that I fully know can be fit and slim if I work at it. It’s not easy, but it’s not supposed to be. If it was easy, then I wouldn’t appreciate all it took to get me here. I wouldn’t learn discipline and self-control. I wouldn’t need daily reminders that I have to lean on God to give me the strength to wake up at 4:30 a.m. regardless of how I feel.
This is my accountability. This is my reminder. It’s time to get back on track.
You are braver than you believe, and stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think. Christopher Robin to Pooh
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