Ever feel like you’ve had an epic fail. It’s when the things you’ve promised yourself somehow fell to the way side and “everything else” got more important. Got more important then you. “Everything else” is important, so it has to have a place. It has to fit into your life. Yet the “fit” gets messy and you lose not only focus but balance. You forsake your control and power for the greater good. For the “life” that gets in the way. For the everything else that must get done.
Sometimes you have to close your eyes, remember what’s really important. You have to put yourself into that image and trust that you belong there. I know that you must keep yourself in the equation or you’ll never prove. Anyone whose good with mathematical interactions knows you have to prove at the end of the day. (Okay, truth be told, I’m not always the greatest at mathematical magic, but Daddy was a banker and I get proving!) However, if you fail to keep yourself in the calculations, there’s nothing to prove. All your best efforts will leave you like something is missing. Leave you longing for more.
I know this is true. Not all that long ago I walked a path where I allowed myself to be “lost”. Lost in a dark place to an addiction that numbed the pain. An emotional eater who tail spun into morbid obesity that tipped the scales at well over 250 pounds. An atrocity for my 5’1” frame. It didn’t happen over night. It didn’t happen without me being keenly and painfully aware of every guilty bite, aware of every emotion that I buried. Knowing day after day that it needed to stop. Knowing that every five or ten pounds that you allow to be okay invites more. One day I had enough and dialed up my own resurrection. Decided that the issues and problems would remain, but I didn’t have to keep slowly killing myself. It was time to reclaim the part of me that was hurting and heal it. Time to take my power back. And, I did. It was recovery that had to do with a whole lot more then the 90 pounds I shed.
For over 30 months it was a success that was sweet most days and larger then life on others. I worked blood, sweat and tears, to be heathy, to feel better, to look better and most importantly to feel like me, to feel whole.
In the last six months I found myself somewhere between broken promises and an epic fail. I allowed a new job and it’s new obligations to get in my way. The job has it’s place, purpose, prestige and need. For this woman already running on overdrive there wasn’t much time to dole out to this new endeavor, something had to give. What was I thinking?! I allowed it to be me. I took the hit! One more thing “to do” became one too many. My gym visits were the first to be sacrificed followed by my at home workout routines. In the weeks that followed I became desensitized to the few pounds that crept up on the scale. In the chaos of the constant busy conceding to the two or three pounds, only to become five and then even a few more. The line I walked became unbalanced. I felt it physically and emotionally. The voice in my head torn between the dark side that I remembered (and lurked) and the optimist that said you’ll get your control back; in a few weeks, on the first of the month, over the break, at the new year, etc. You let the first five slip by and before you know it the next five begin to up the anti. It was slow... but it was happening. Once again all to aware, but not going there. There wasn’t time. I needed enough time to carve out a schedule, to make it a habit again, to get control. Another day, another week slips by... and nothing gave, except the scale working it’s way towards a ten pound gain.
ENOUGH! What am I doing?! What was I thinking?!?! Finally - I let it click once again. ENOUGH! I am - so NOT going back there! I was all to tuned in to how easily it could happen. Finally... I refuse to let “it” happen.
You can’t worry about making it perfect. You cannot wait until there is enough time to make the perfect schedule. To make the perfect balance. You have to concern yourself only with making it happen. As best as you can - today. Just do it. Start. Start over.
I can’t get to the gym a few times a week, every week. But, I’ve finally gone back. I can’t get the home routine to fit certain days and times on schedule. But, I can commit to 10 miles a week and make that work. Make the scale roll back.
I found the time to "rest" my strappy stilettos and lace up my running shoes. Two point five weeks and 25.3 miles in - I am back in the game - I am doing it. (Again!) I made myself a priority. I am redefining the rules, taking back control and reclaiming balance. Not to mention the added dose of endorphins - there’s still never enough time - but - all is better! It is empowering.
It is not an epic inadequacy to demand a do-over. There is no shame in beginning again. The only failure in starting over is talking and thinking about it rather then doing it. Just do it.
KEEP THE PROMISES THAT YOU MAKE TO YOURSELF! ;)