Well, I’m ready for tomorrow. Gym membership has been sorted. Gym clothes fit. Sports bra still makes me laugh uncontrollably trying to put it on.
I’m ready. I’m still scared, but I’m ready for BEAST MODE.
I’ve turned this into something bigger than just “getting healthy” and I’m aware of that. I don’t know if it’s a good thing or not, but it feels like an opportunity for growth.
My entire life, I wanted someone else to push me. I wanted someone to invest time and energy into seeing me succeed. I don’t know why or where this comes from, but certainly the cause of a lot of childhood pain was seeing my dad do this with my brother, and not me.
Whether that’s an accurate or fair memory doesn’t really matter.
What matters is that I know sitting around waiting for someone else to care on my behalf has gotten me exactly nowhere.
Yes, I’m still nervous about being in prime relapse time. I’m still haunted by Mrs M.’s words: “You always say you’re going to do something and you never do” (she’s right). I’m nervous that the searing pain in my leg is more than simple plantar fasciitis and may derail my initial workout plans. I’m worried that this year will play out like last year did.
But I’m going to do this, because I want to push myself to do it. That’s a new feeling. It’s exciting but I’m also nervous it’s really just some sort of undiagnosed mental health issue disguised as “feeling positive”.
I have been unhappy and unmotivated for so long that I immediately dismiss a slight glimmer of self-worth as a mental health issue.
That’s actually pretty sad.
I’ve been thinking about whether I want to keep a goal for my physical recovery in mind, because everybody and their dog espouses the value of “SMART” goals. The truth is, I’m not confident enough to set one. Yet.
For now, I am more interested in developing the habits of eating well and exercising. I don’t care if I lose weight or not (not actually true, but the scale won’t define my idea of success). There is a “sporting event” I’d like to work towards, but it’s too early for me to comfortably admit/commit to it. Maybe that will be “phase three”.
Mostly, I just want to learn what it’s like to be my own cheerleader. To care about my own health. To be my own coach.
That’s what this is really about: cultivating self-worth and believing in myself. If I happen to drop to a size 10 in the process I’ll be honest, that would be amazing.
But that’s not my goal.
My panic is rising as I write because I am investing a lot of mental energy into being “successful” at this, even though I have no clear definition of what success even looks like. Intuitively I have a sense of it and that’s good enough for now.
But I need to step away from this before I make it bigger in my head than what it actually is. I also need to finish the brownies and pizza before tomorrow morning.
And maybe buy some real food.