Yesterday, I talked myself into being ok with this long road. I was able to tear my eyes away from the goal, which seems a world away from where I am, and appreciate this place. Just a little bit. I wouldn’t want to be on this road forever, but I’ve come to terms with the fact that this is an extensive and uncertain journey.
I’m settling in.
I’m in this for the long haul. That burst of excitement and energy that propelled me forward at the start of this journey is long gone. The newness has worn off – a little faster than the first time around, understandably. In a way, it’s a familiar feeling. I remember the 2nd time I attempted WeightWatchers. After losing a whole lot of weight the 1st time, then gaining it all back, I worked myself back up and started again. It didn’t last long. I don’t remember how long exactly, but I remember being astonished by how quickly I gave up. Without the shiny glow of novelty, and all the hopes and expectations that go along with it, there was nothing to keep me going. I ran out of fuel, and I was done.
The shininess has worn off of BLE, too. Having a Mastermind group and taking the time to write this blog every day got me started, but they can’t disguise the fact that I’ve been here before. I’m bringing a few more friends and accessories, but it’s the same road.
The funny thing is, that doesn’t seem to matter.
I’m still here. Still moving forward. And I’m not losing any steam. I should be feeling myself slipping. Tiring. I should be holding on with every ounce of strength I have and knowing, deep down, that it’s about to give out. But I’m not.
Now, I’m going to use an analogy here that I have no personal experience with. Because I do not run. Never have, and I doubt I ever will. I do not like running. But I’ve heard, from people who do, that there’s something that happens when you’ve trained for a long run, like a marathon. You settle into a rhythm. Maybe not the crazy competitors who are there to win, or to beat their old records. I’ve heard horrible stories about people pushing themselves to the edge, finishing only in pain and agony. I cringe at those stories, because if it is anything like what I feel like trying to maintain 2 minutes of jogging, then it is a horrible form of self-torture and I do not approve. But for those who are there to have fun, they settle into a pace that they know they can maintain. And then it’s just one foot after the other. Mindless, rhythmic, calming, and almost easy.
Without having ever experienced that sensation, I think that’s how I feel.
The finish line is out of sight. And for the time being, I’m not thinking about it. It’s just me and this road, getting to know each other. It’s not new, anymore. It’s comfortable.
I know what to eat. I know how to eat. I plan my food for the next day without stress. I follow that plan without second-guessing myself. I write. I fill in my checklist. I smile as I check in on our Facebook group. I look forward to my mastermind meeting. I even step on the scale without trepidation.
This trip isn’t ending any time soon. That’s ok. I’ll get there eventually. Because I can do this. I could do this forever.
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