"Think positively about yourself…. ask God who made you to keep on remaking you." -Norman Vincent Peale

My body has a mind of its own. I like to call this mind Self. (I know, I know, I’ve blown you away with my creativity again.)

Today marks one month since I really began the quest to lose those 10 pounds, and I’m halfway there, sometimes less, sometimes more, depending on what time of day I weigh. And I owe a lot of that to Self.

But Self has a mind of her own. Sometimes, Self says, “It ain’t happening today.”
“Self!” I say, shocked. Doesn’t Self know what’s at stake here? “Get on the treadmill, Self. You can do it.” Nope, nu-uh, forget about it. 

“Now, Self. Do you want to be sad about how you look in a bathing suit forever, or do you want to do something about it?”

Sometimes Self decides she does. I set a goal of 30 minutes/ 2 miles everyday. This was because after much research, I found that 30 minutes a day of brisk exercise starts throwing health benefits at you left and right that have nothing to do with weight loss; it cuts your risk of diabetes and heart disease, improves your mood, and can help you sleep better. The two miles came from my Nana: she walks two miles a day. Hey, if Nana can do it, I can do it! Nana will not outdo me! So, at least both of those. If 2 miles takes 33 minutes, so be it. If 30 minutes gives me 2.3 miles, alright. But every day, that was my goal. So, Self has to do that every day, and then it’s up to her what happens after that. Sometimes Self barely holds on until that 30 minute mark, and then she hops off, even though I ask her not to. But on those days, I can’t really be disappointed with Self. She met the goal. Other days, Self starts off thinking she may not make it, but a good song or a nice breeze or the sheer fascination with achievement pushes her, and she makes it to two miles, and then she makes it to three. Sometimes she struggles to get there, but she gets off that treadmill feeling like she accomplished something because she did- she went a little farther, pushed a little harder, sweater a little more than was expected. On those days I say, “Way to go, Self! You stuck it out and went the extra mile!” Self does not find my wit very entertaining. Self’s a tough crowd.

Some days, Self hops on that treadmill and flies. Self runs. Self sweats and Self goes for it. Then Self takes more walks and does more sit-ups and honestly, Self amazes me with what she can do and I say, “Whoa! Self, I didn’t know you had it in you.” And I didn’t.

See, Self has a mind of her own. There are days when Self’s toe is hurting, or her muscles are sore, or her blister is bleeding, or her lungs are feeling all shriveled up and when I plead with her she says, “Shut the freaking tuna sandwich UP. I’m done.” I have to let that be okay, or I might start to hate Self, to think that she’s not good enough, when I know she is. And on the days when Self goes all those extra miles, when she proves that she’s got more willpower than I thought, I have to look in the mirror and say, “Wow. You did that, Self. And I am proud.”

I am proud to say that in the last month (30 days), I have only missed three days of exercise. I am about to order the 30-Day Shred and so that’ll hopefully jumpstart my July and, uh, help me shred those next 5 pounds. Oh, the wit!


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