The Wagon's Still in the Shop

Today wasn't the day.

Maybe tomorrow won't be either. It's on the horizon though.

I know because I'm the mechanic. I'm the wheel wright. I'm fixing this wagon.

How? Well, in short, I'm going to mom myself. I'm going to turn my wagging mom index finger on myself and say, "Beatrice Elizabeth, you cannot read that book or write that story or drink that coffee or have screen time until you've done at least twenty minutes today!"

Of course knowing me as I do, there will be the five stages of getting out of responsibility and shirking self - discipline:

1. DENIAL: You can't make me. I do what I want. You're not the boss of me!

2. ANGER: You're just doing this cuz you're mean! I don't like you when you're like this!

3. BARGAINING: Fine, I'll do it, but can I do half now and half later? How about I do two workouts tomorrow?

4: DEPRESSION: What's the point of doing this anyway? It's not like I'm ever going to lose any weight. I never do. I just want to curl up and cry.

5: ACCEPTANCE: Yes, I know you are right. It's what is best for me. Twenty minutes isn't that long. I can make it.

And then when those wheels are back on that buckboard hopefully I'll feel better inside and out. Though, I do think inside is more important because eventually feeling well inside becomes being well outside.

Goodnight, friends. Pray for me. Cheer for me. Do your twenty minutes with me then use your screen time reward to tell me how you feel.

P.S.
As much as I'd like to say this plan is my idea, it's not. Someone wise planted the seed and I ran with it.

What Happened to My Wagon?

I wish there was a better way to say it, but I'm going to fall back on the old cliche. I've fallen off the wagon - the exercise wagon, that is. I was going strong for weeks then let one little schedule interruption run me off the road. If I'm honest with myself - and whoever might be reading this - I'd have to say that's just par for the course for me. I'm gung ho out of the gate then I let the first turn drag me down.

I keep thinking tomorrow's the day, tomorrow I'm climbing up on that seat, grabbing the reins, and giddy-upping my way back to good habits. The problem is that the bad habits are much stronger than I am. At least two of them are - sugar and laziness. I've beaten cigarettes, drugs, and myriad other addictions but none had the power over me that sugar and laziness have.

I cringe at the word laziness. It plays into all of those fatty stereotypes that say we must be this size because we never do anything. Of course that is so absurdly untrue as to not warrant comment but still I feel compelled to point out my three children that I homeschool, the home I manage successfully, and the improvements/investments that I make in myself in other areas (like writing!)

All of that is dandy but why is it so hard to move more and stick to it?

I think the sticking to is the difficulty. There are lots of activities I would love to try: cross fit, rock climbing, roller skating - Heck, I've checked out a belly dancing fitness dvd from the library. I even want to learn to fight. Not the local Tae Kwon Do dojo stuff, I mean quick takedown, fighting for your life, Krav Maga stuff or maybe that Brazilian dance-looking stuff called Capoeira. Who's going to teach me though? Who's going to look past the belly that gets in my way constantly to see that my calves are pure sculpted muscle that could give a mule a run for its money in kicking power?

No one. People literally laugh at me when I use the words 'cross' and 'fit' together in a sentence.

But those people aren't the problem.

I AM THE PROBLEM.

I'm the one who doesn't get up to do it.

I'm the one who has checked out that belly dancing dvd twice for a total of six weeks time and never cracked open the case much less watched and participated.

It's all me. I know, but is knowing enough to get going again? Maybe. Hopefully. We'll see tomorrow morning.