I feel guilty.
I should have gone for a run instead of eating that bowl of ice cream. I mean, I could still go for that run, and I think I might, but the ice cream was still a bad idea.* Bad food choices have been the name of the game lately and, no matter how much I say I will, I can’t seem to gain any of my will power back. When you combine shitty food with little-to-no exercise, it’s only a matter of time before you start to feel gross again. It took me a long time to lose all that weight, and while I’m not gaining it back (I’ve been relatively steady on the scale since 2009), I’m still feeling lethargic and guilty and….just blah.
It’s weird to admit, but guilt is a big motivator for me. In the summer of 2007, when I first started my weight loss journey, if I was about to go to bed and hadn’t worked out, I’d feel guilty enough to hold off on sleep and throw in the 20 minute pilates DVD. And I always felt better about myself after. Same with food: if I went in for that second bowl of ice cream, the guilt of knowing that I’d have to work out more in order to work off the empty calories I took in would motivate me to run that extra block instead of eating it.
Running is the key to my happiness, I’m not even kidding. Not only is it my time to throw in the ear buds, shut out the world and do some serious thinking, I always feel better, health wise and self wise, when I’m regularly active. All I need to do is go out and actually DO IT, instead of lying in bed for hours watching YouTube videos and tweeting. It’s so much easier said than done, especially when I’ve found myself slipping back into old, nasty habits.
So, as of right now, I am reinstating the rule that helped me lose that 150 pounds in the first place: I will work out every day, in some shape or form. If I take a day off, I HAVE to work out the next day no matter what. By keeping a routine I am more likely to stick to it, which I’ve proved in the past. I am also reinstating the candy ban. I could sit and eat gummies all freaking day and not even think twice about it, because they’re so goddamn delicious. No more, not gonna do it.
Guilt is not my only motivator, though. I’m also motivated by my amazing friends and family who have been nothing but supportive, I’m motivated by old pictures of myself and the determination to never have to buy clothes at a plus size store again, I’m motivated by the cute dresses and low-rise jeans that I could never wear until only a couple years ago, and I’m motivated by myself, because I know that I have it in me to accomplish anything.
Platitudes aside, I just need to fucking do it. No excuses anymore. I’m doing it, and that’s final.
Where are my running shoes?
*I started this post last night and DID go for a run, so YAY ME!