Generally I practice what I preach. Clean eating and good fitness as a means to attaining health & wellness. None of that shallow talk of wanting to look good. I tell everyone I just want to feel good. Be fit and healthy. Because I am deep. Way too deep to be concerned solely with my appearance but I haven’t been getting it in as hard as I should have been. I let my SWAG (Specific Wellness Activity Goals) slip as I devoted more time to building my businesses and coaching my clients, a thing I would never condone my clients doing. Oh I still eat right…for the most part… and I still get it in at least 30 minutes of cardio per day and throw in some weights but let’s face it my SWAG had been replaced by smmag (Social Media Marketing Advertisements and Gmail).
I fell into a trap I warn others about. As I crossed each item off my list I failed to replace it with another goal.
I ran/walked two half marathons at this weight. It was painful. More so than if I had been in better shape but the goal to complete one was done…twice.
My blood glucose has improved tremendously & I no longer need meds.
I still haven’t found a dress for my daughter’s wedding that moves me to get it in so I can get in it so the only thing left to motivate me to work my abs off is pain. And it’s got to be the abs ‘cuz I will never willingly work my ummm…well I’m keeping that!
Straight up pure & unadulterated pain. Not physical pain but emotional pain. In this case fear. The fear of being naked in front of anybody. Not that I plan on doing so ever but I want to have a body I am not ashamed to display should that situation ever arise.
And it did or rather the potential for it did. Not in any real way mind you because this gent is completely off limits in every way but the thought of him seeing me in this shape was fear inspiring enough to get my ass in gear.
While I realize he is a “new outfit” I will never wear…it’s the thought of the possibility of that “new outfit” that will get the job done. So I’ll close my eyes and let the fantasy keep me motivated for as long as I need it to.
The question then becomes how long can I keep that “new outfit” from trying to “wear” me?