Most stories have a beginning, a middle, and an end. I see no relevance in discussing my beginnings. Right now I seem to be stuck in the middle so let’s start this story here. I am up to my full figured waist in IT right now. I need to get my head out of my arse. Why is it so difficult to stop doing something that brings nothing good to your life? I know what I need to do but I can’t seem to convince myself to do it.
Sometimes the only way to get to the other shore is to jump into the water and swim towards the opposing shore. No complaints, no carefully made plans just thrusting full throttle for something other than what is currently not working for you. To quote Shakespeare, from Hamlet ,”This above all: to thine own self be true, And it must follow, as the night the day, Thou canst not then be false to any man.” … and yet somehow every day I make compromises and I am not true to myself.
As many of you know I married a man whose passion is anything hockey. Every fall I find myself at odds about the start of the season, the loss of free time, the crappy weather, the angst that comes with game day prep (and he isn’t even on the team!) and the sense of loss I feel over not feeling the adrenal rush that every other hockey groupie gets. I have made many friends because of this sport. I cherish them all. BUT…I miss my freedom. What can not be changed must be embraced. I am writing this missive not because I am looking for sympathy but for clarity in myself. It is time to stop complaining about something that at least for the moment is unlikely to change. I am uncertain how to move forward but I need to.
I have often wondered why every time I go on a eating better for better health kick I can’t make it a lifestyle. Why does doing well become my new obsession? Why do I lack the ability to stop all the thoughts that crowd my mind about being hungry? about wanting? about feeling deprived? about feeling sorry for myself because I wasn’t born with a magical metabolism that keeps me thin? I have no energy for these bullshit thoughts anymore. I just want to feel healthy. I want to climb a flight of stairs and not feel like I am going to die from lack of oxygen. I want to bend over and tie my shoes. I want to stop feeling tight in my own skin. I want to stop obsessing. I want to feel vibrant. I want to wear and buy clothes without Spandex being my only option. With all of the ever changing methods of WWs(not that I am blaming them) and my own personal demons I am left feeling like I am trying to climb Mount Everest over a piece of toast. That is just wrong. EAT THE TOAST. I know what to do. It’s time to do it.
I am going to mix things up with my blog, spend less time commiserating about my struggles. Write about the joy of life. I know it’s out there.