Half-assed

That would be the tidiest way to sum up my “efforts” lately. I don’t know what it is, this malaise that has me eating sugar and bread as if they’re health foods. I don’t know how a person could feel so ready to change, and yet, not really go through with it. I mean, sure, I’m hopping…er, dragging myself out of bed every morning (this week, anyhow) to do either yoga or pilates before work. But then, well, take last night. Please. I came home from work and had a little sourdough baguette. Then made barbecued jerk tofu and veggie skewers and basmati rice, and salad. It was a great supper. And a little while after eating it, I was back in the kitchen for a bowl of cereal with soymilk and blackberries. And then I ate some chips. Not very many, but still. And a Lindt truffle. And then another one of those. And then I got the hell in bed because I couldn’t see where it would end, you know?

I was so HUNGRY yesterday. But not the kind where you feel that tingle in your stomach, the kind where you’re actually, physiologically hungry. Instead, the kind that had me eating all day and never feeling full.

I feel like I have a tremendous capacity for happiness, and an equally tremendous capacity for sadness. And yesterday, that hungry feeling was a similar one. One of simple (yet so complex) capacity. I didn’t feel full-to-bursting, so I kept eating.

It’s not a crisis, yet. My clothes are still fitting better than ever, I’m still in a size 16, my measurements are still holding steady or falling a little. But that’s not what I want. I don’t want to be a size 16. I don’t want these clothes to fit, I want them to be so loose they’re falling off. Yet, when I’m eating mindlessly, eating only because I can, I have to question just how much I want what I say I want.

It is so easy to do nothing. So easy, except for the constant chatter about it in my head, the scheming and planning and imagining. That part isn’t easy at all.

On the other hand, many times in the past nine months (nine months already?) I have found it just as easy to do the right thing. To make healthy food choices, to exercise, to drink water. So why is it so difficult now?

I don’t know the answer to that. I don’t know why I can’t just make sure I get three litres of water a day. It’s not like I’m not thirsty. Quite the contrary. But can I get up twice a day to refill my water bottle at work? I cannot. Can I, either during breakfast or throughout the evening, knock back another at home? No sir.

I forget sometimes that it’s all choice. All of it. I can choose to give my body the water it needs. I can choose to prioritise exercise. I can choose to not bring trigger foods into the house. I have made these choices before. I can choose to recommit.

It seems my two settings, though, are whole hog and half-assed. Heh. So let’s jiggle that around a little and actually try baby-stepping through it, shall we?
This week’s goals:

Drink three litres of water a day

And

Do yoga or pilates tape each morning.

They’re small steps, but they’re steps I can do. No point in big steps I won’t take, right? So, small steps it is.