1000 Strands

I’m in the best shape of my life as I write this to you. I am glistening with sweat – my abs hard and my hair somehow still voluminous and sea-breeze blown.  I’m enjoying eating a kale, chia seed salad and drinking a room-temperature glass of lemon water.

…Not really. Not ever. That’s not true.

I’ve been better than I am today, though… God knows. He knows. I’ve. Been. Better.

When I was in the best shape of my life, I actually got there after a 6 week diet and exercise bootcamp.

My abs have never actually been what other people would call “hard” or “fit” but I did have an actual waist. I was smaller at my belly button than at my boobs. It happened.

Funny thing. I thought I was changing for good… Forever. I thought I would never be the same after that bootcamp — I gave it a big push and worked hard.

I was proud. I had swag. Confidence. My hair bounced like you wish yours did.

New, baby, beginning habits were formed. I studied and gained knowledge. I set goals. I learned Right from Wrong (the capital letter kind of right and wrong).

Then, slowly, I made exceptions and had set backs… temptations… and celebrations… Consolations.

And now, I am my old, normal self again. The one who is a slave. A slave to destructive habits of comfort, indulgence, addiction, and doughy pizza. (oh, pizza… you abuse me and I like it)

Part of me still knows eating and laying around don’t lead to a healthy, vibrant life … but that part can’t convince the rest of the parts to get it together again.

Here’s why… That part knows it’s a forever decision this time. That big push.. Bootcamp… Diet…DIE-ette…  it was short. It had a deadline. It was temporary. Now ALL of me knows success takes a forever commitment. And I don’t want to forever commit.

But if I want to really live… if my goals are health, energy, that elusive waist, shiny hair, confidence and swag into my 60s and 70s… then I must change my daily habits and I must change them forever. Everyday is a second chance at success. Why am I choosing failure when success is an option (thanks Jillian Michaels for the catchy shame-phrase)? Why do we do that?  (Or is it just me?)

I am in some of the most jiggly shape of my life as I sit here and write to you. It happens. Things get jiggly. I am still beautiful (I’ll say it til I believe it). I just don’t have any clothes that fit and I spend my days dreaming of the next sugary and/or salty, doughy and/or crunchy bite to satisfy my endless, black hole-like cravings.  I am a slave to those cravings and it must stop.

Are you a slave to something? A craving? Addiction? Behavior you wish you could just stop?  Grab on. This train is leaving. We are leaving this place of hopelessness and droopy souls.

Wanna join me?  No more DIE-ettes. We are starting a life.