A Bulldozer's Finesse

I'm afraid.

Much of what I've written in this blog (and hope to continue writing about) focuses on the changes in mind, body, and spirit that I've undergone the last few years. It hasn't always been easy. It hasn't always been fun. But it has been undeniably good. And even though the line between smug self-glorification and helpful advice can be difficult to pin down, the underlying message-- that anyone can take control of their own life at any time-- is an important one to keep pounding away at.

That being said, I'm still haunted by the fear that writing this you-can-do-it-because-I-did-it blog will invoke such a swell of hubris that fate will have me lose sight of all I've accomplished and I'll find myself fat, alone, and living in a bug-filled apartment that overlooks a Thai Restaurant's garbage chute all over again.

But I digress.

An overwhelming part of the American dieting industry is focused on date-specific success. Lose a full dress size in 48 hours! Lose 10 lbs in 2 easy weeks! Lose 3 inches from your waistline in just a month! But there is little to no mention of what happens when the 48 hours, 2 weeks, or month time allotment has come and gone. What is a person supposed to do after success? How can they maintain fitness goals long term?

... No, really... I'm asking because I don't know. By Thanksgiving last year I had already gained back about 10 of the 15 lbs I shed by commuting. I kept telling myself that after such an active summer I deserved a good rest. I deserved to put off Pilates for yet another week. I deserved to upsize to the bucket of tater tots.

I thought that was how one handles success: with rewards... of inactivity and overeating. As the winter months wore on, I was devastated to realize that I'd completely unraveled the previous summer's benefits. I was weak, flabby, and unmotivated... again.

At the time the solution was clear. Since I'd had such a difficult time limiting rewards, I denied myself everything my instincts told me I deserved. Ha! That would show em! I didn't just fight inactivity, I fought inactivity with a bulldozer's finesse taking out anything and everything that slightly resembled laziness, sloth, or, well, relaxation. While it did work wonders (have you seen my Michelle Obama arms recently?) it also created a large gap between extreme leisure and extreme training where I have absolutely no idea how to handle myself, what I can allow myself, and what I should feel guilty about.

And therein lies the fear: I've achieved my goals but I don't know what to do next. How can I be sure that the one extra thing of string cheese I devoured this afternoon won't lead to one extra Whopper Value Meal which will lead to acne, which will lead to low self-esteem, which will lead to a complete desertion of goals, which will lead me back to the Thai-Restaurant-Garbage-Chute-Apartment?

Yes, I'm being serious. A dash of neurosis is yet another one of my charming character traits.

This winter, whether I like it or not, will be a crash course in balance. I want to rest. I want to relax. I know a certain amount of that is healthy... yet... how do I stop once I've started?

I'd like to offer up a thoughtful analogy about how fitness, dieting, goals in general are more about the process than the product, but I can't think of any I truly believe in when I'm so unsure of myself and what I'm doing.

Ugh. Winter.