Get It Together

I knew that coming back to my weight loss journey would be hard after taking basically all of December off. And before I even started I knew that this would be the hardest thing I’ve ever tried to do. I’m changing years of not just bad habits but also negative thinking patterns. I need to readjust a lot about how I think of myself, how I talk to myself, how I take care of myself – and consequently all of those things but from other people (more on that later).

 

 

I’ve slogged through this first month and a half, and I mean that exactly how it sounds. I haven’t been exceptionally motivated and even as I made choices I knew weren’t awesome I just didn’t care. And I couldn’t figure out why (I have a few theories that basically amount to “white girl problems”).

But after I confessed to my bad eating decisions here I had one of the most awful workouts of my life. I couldn’t do any of the stuff I thought I should have been able to do. Then I turned in my food journal to my trainer who proceeded to give me the most incredible “come to Jesus” talk.

Yes, I cried.

But only a little.

And sadly I can’t remember everything he said (other than, “don’t you dare cry” and something about how big my goals were which was a really effective statement (the big goals, not the “don’t cry” cause obviously I ignored that part)) but I do remember his summary:

Get your shit together.

To be clear, Jason never talks to me that way. He’s relatively laid back and is always respectful even though we joke around a lot.  He will call me out when I deserve it but he usually doesn’t swear at me (conversationally from time to time, yes). Which is why it worked.

I wanted to walk out of the gym and never come back. I wanted to go home and cry myself to sleep and hide for the rest of the weekend. I didn’t do either thing – I finished my workout (which was then the second worst workout of my life because I was once again feeling weak and unable to do as well as I thought I should), I forced myself not to cry very much because I didn’t want to have anyone ask my why I was crying, and I went out for dinner with Chelsea as planned.

Only I didn’t devour my meal like I normally would have. I saved half of my dinner to eat for lunch the next day. I took one small step toward getting back on track.

The next day I took another step. I went back to the gym. My workout didn’t suck.

And every week I kept taking those steps. Every day I made at least one good decision. I’m told that these things add up.

 

 

I’m not going to say that I’ve turned everything around or that I’ll never have trouble again, but at least for now my motivation is back. I’ve spent some time thinking about what I want and why I want it (more on that later too). I’m refocused, rededicated, and reenergized.

This is my year. And I’m not going to back down.

Have you ever had anyone say something to you that helped you get refocused? What keeps you working toward your goals?