A few weeks ago I blogged about how I had some how lost my fitness stuff. How I’d let life get in the way, found myself sliding backwards. How for the first time ever I had dropped out of events. I promised to do better. To get my mojo back. To start over.
Instead, I did something else entirely. I started smoking again. A habit I had ditched a few years ago. It took about two days to get hooked all over again. To get back to a packet a day. I quit working with my Personal Trainer as I don’t have the energy to keep up with him. All the old habits are back. My eating is totally and utterly out of control. Whatever I had harnessed four years ago to get me to tackle my obesity, whatever had given me the ability to walk into a gym when I was the biggest girl there had gone.
I still set the alarm. I still packed the gym bag the night before. I still ordered all the healthy food.
Only the food rotted in the fridge. And when the alarm rang I applied the fuck it methodology and went back to sleep.
Here’s the thing about a blog. It keeps you honest. And I need to be, to myself as much as anything else. After all, I wrote a book about my success. So I need to write about my failures too. Or I am no better than one of those celebrity types who endorse a diet at Christmas that I am so keen to criticise.
Today, I am figuring it out. What the fitness stuff used to mean and why I did it. What it means for me now and tomorrow. How I find my way all over again. Today, I don’t have any answers. I am just asking myself the questions. I started this blog and wrote my book just to see if I could help someone else along the way. So if I figure it out, I’ll share it here too. And to everyone else fighting a hard battle….. you are not on your own.