Here I am again, dreading doing all the things I know are good for me. Today, I'm doing them anyway. I'm not really sure why it's such a challenge every day. Maybe I'm just not driven enough. Maybe I'm not smart enough to do what's in my best interest. Maybe I'm just an insufferable masochist. Maybe I have a terrible attitude. Maybe I'm afraid to actually succeed at what I've set out to do. Maybe I just don't enjoy it and never will.
I don't know. What I do know is that the reasons why I don't like it are no longer important. I might never figure out why it's such a struggle. I still have to do it. At times like these it's probably better to just turn my brain off and stop concerning myself with the "why" and just "do".
You can chuckle to yourself as you imagine me complaining to myself, whining, raging, cussing and crying about the unbearable trek on the treadmill and how tortured I feel to have to get up and do it again today.
My tantrum-throwing inner child wails, "Why do I have to do this? When does it end? When can I just loaf around and eat Christmas cookies all day in my bikini body?!"
Grow up, Pamela.
When I committed myself to making these changes and reaching my goal, I knew it would involve taking a lot of steps, most of them on the treadmill. I had better get moving. If I've learned anything at all in this process, it's that the steps won't take themselves and Christmas cookies make me look more like Santa Claus than a beach bunny.
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