Sometimes I think I make so many goals because just to feel proud of myself.
How sad is that?
But then when they don’t get accomplished, I feel like a fraud.
Because maybe I’m not the achiever I think I am.
So then I make new goals
And get really hyped about those
And I run with that hype for 6 months.
But then it fades and I decide I’m a changed woman and want a new goal.
So I make more goals.
And more goals
And still more
Because it’s not the goals I’m addicted to, it’s the newness. The revigoration.
So I may not be a goal whore after all, but actually a hype whore?
This month I’ve decided to change it up.
Instead of just running, I’m going to trial 3 different gyms this month to see what classes work for me.
Maybe it’s from the new fall season or the conversation I had with a friend, but I feel inspired.
I’m ready to be pushed and since I’ve always wanted to try crossfit.
So I thought, why not now?
Why not start the same year I go back to visit my family after 3 years of not seeing them?
Why not show them what 30 can look like with some discipline and hard work?
Because I want to look fit.
And I especially want to look like the athlete I believe I am.
So here goes nothing.
So I would say I’m not keto anymore.
I’ve been craving bread this year and so I’ve just let it happen.
Avo and toast?
And I feel good about it.
I am letting my body explore again.
Does my tummy look a slight bit squishier?
But who’s looking at my tummy, but me?
So why bother trying to make it perfect?
Why bother trying to maintain that skinny high school look?
I’m not in high school anymore.
I’m almost 30 man!
I can’t be letting my brain bring me back to old toxic habits.
I’m a Fucking woman now.
So I’m going to cheers to bread and my squishy belly because life’s too short not to.
I’m proud I logged back into work and caught up on some emails for 2 hrs.
Totally procrastinated all day. Did other stuff all day but got it done.
Did stuff such as:
Cleaned the kitchen and bathroom.
Took laundry down.
Put my clothes away.
Reorganized my closet and put my summer clothes in and winter out.
Had a long conversation about our future house with Josh.
Cooked myself brekky and lunch.
Went through the weekly receipts with Josh and paid my bills.
And while doing that I did drink gin and tonic and beer and over eat some chicken and potato Josh made.
Not for any emotional reason.
Not because I was being impulsive.
I just love his cooking and I decided to say yes.
I know I’ll be bloated tomorrow.
And that’s okay.
I accept that.
1. I am now able to eat dark chocolate every day and not over eat.
2. I am now able to run a half marathon.
3. I am getting comfortable crying. I have cried almost every day the past two weeks and I see this as an accomplishment of facing my emotions in a healthy way.
4. I am letting go of my insecurity about my butt.
5. I am opening up to my partner more and checking my ego when it gets triggered.
6. I have meditated for 18 days straight.
If you know where I got my title, tell me. I’d like to unite with some old school Disney kids.
So I fell today.
Just a little curb trip during my run. Nothing crazy. I did sit there for a bit on the pavement chuckling to myself. I do that when I’m in pain. I googled it, laughing is some kind of defense mechanism I guess. It works for me.
Anyways, I was really grateful though that when I tripped a cyclist saw me and stopped to check on me. He was a typical Aussie grandpa. Very sweet, very calm and just asking me questions. “Did you break anything? Just breathe. Don’t move right away. Is your elbow okay?”
And the whole time I was just laughing with embarrassment and thinking, “what a kind soul.”
After a couple minutes I was fine though and I told him, “Thank you for stopping. I gotta keep running now. ” and so he left and I continued on my way, but in all honesty, he made my day.