Motivation

It's funny that six months into this thing I still find myself fighting the urge to chuck it all and live out the rest of my days fat and miserable.


Not that it's unexpected, I suppose. But I guess while I'm learning lessons about what, how and when to eat, I'm also still fighting 22 years of previous programming.


Though I haven't written about it until tonight, the fact is that I find myself struggling with motivation these days. I'm sure it will pass. At least I hope it will. But I don't know, really.


Six months. This is uncharted territory for me. In the past it was a month or two, then the motivation would begin to wane as the temptation began to rise. Shortly thereafter it was goodbye diet, hello same old unhealthy lifestyle.


I think part of it has to do with the numbers.


I look back at the last five weeks and see just two pounds gone. And while the reality of the situation is that being on the road and my daughter's graduation were tremendous obstacles I overcame in order to hold serve during that time, my apparently black-and-white way of thinking sometimes only sees the scoreboard.


If I had to pinpoint something right now (besides the urge to dive headfirst into a bathtub full of beer and chicken wings), I'd say it's patience. Or lack of it.


There have been times in my life when I've had problems with patience, and this is turning out to be one of them. I want the weight gone, and I want it gone now. And I have to constantly step back and remind myself something I've told you before:


It took 22 years to build this magnificent temple. It ain't coming off in just a few months.


So, I press on. Bobbing and weaving as temptation fires one haymaker after another.


Bloodied, battered, but not beaten.

Not yet.