I’ve been in a malaise of stress and mental exhaustion since I last wrote. And let me tell you, comfort eating does not cure a damn thing. Chocolate bars won’t help you sleep; potato chips won’t play taxi driver for your kids; and raw cookie dough won’t fix the timing belt on your retro car.
However, five extra pounds in the winter does not have to turn into ten or twenty–it can stop here. And despite the recent proliferation of lebkuchen in Germany and my lack of regimented marathon training, my weight can dial back to normal based on the choices that I make.
Laziness, negativity, cookie-dough-eating: these are choices.
So what if you don’t feel motivated (to exercise, to write, to eat healthy)? Who the hell cares? Do what you know is right–no matter how ‘motivated’ you feel.
And as long as you are breathing and thinking somewhat clearly, then it’s not too late.
Every time I run a marathon, the first five miles are spent vowing to NEVER run another one again.
This has happened eight times.
Motivation is great, but it’s irrelevant. It’s better to just get the job done.
I’m not a pilot, so I apologize if my metaphor is inaccurate; but one thing I DO know is that if you’re in a nosedive, then you should pull up.
So you’ve been smoking for thirty years.
You’ve been eating crap for forty years.
Your only exercise is getting up to use the bathroom during commercial breaks.
It’s not too late.
And even if it turns out it IS too late, you don’t want the blackbox to reveal you were pushing forward on the yoke the entire time, telling the copilot, ‘I just can’t help it.’
Visualize what you want your life to look like–not just five years from now, but in the moment. And be utterly content with where you are in the dangerous process of dream-making.
If you look out and see nothing but the ground rushing towards you, then it’s time to take a deep breath, grab the yoke, and pull it back.
That’s what I’m choosing.