The Gift of Discomfort
The quest to eat right, along with the market that sells advice and products on how to eat right never gets old. Plans vary, however the blanket message usually goes something like this; decrease junk, eat lean and green, get plenty of rest. Drink lots of water, exercise.
I’ve been clean of foods that fall into my junk food category for 23 years. I haven’t had one piece of cake, one brownie, or one ice cream cone. No pizza, no pasta, no English muffins with slabs of butter. I work out as often as I can and practice any feel good slogan stuff I find myself attracted to; memes about growth with a pinch of struggle and strong notes of appreciation and letting go – yes, please.
As far as weight loss initiatives, many programs promise to be THE one program that will propel you into a successful weight loss. And by the way, most diets aren’t diets any more; they’re a food plan, a way of eating for life, a new beginning to better habits. In the absence of a serious food addiction, I believe any program would work if the dedication to it were there. I was a pudgy kid who grew into a heavy young adult. In my early 20’s, and pushing a size 14, this no longer served me. I wanted to be thin because my belief was that thin equaled a healthy body and mind. Thin was where it was at; thin people were loved more than me and if I were thin, my worries would melt away.
I lost the weight, and I felt great. Of course my thinking was distorted and my baggage still intact, but that’s another post. I told myself I’d keep eating the way I was eating until I hit the ripe old age of 60. At that point, I’d be old and close to death and my weight would no longer matter. At 60, I would proceed to eat whatever I wanted and die of heart disease like the rest of America. Fat, on meds, but happy enough with my apple pie and vanilla ice cream.
Flash forward 23 years later, much closer to 60 and hopefully not within the Reaper’s line of sight, I’m a brand new woman who has no plans of ditching the way I eat or exercise, unless it’s via improvement.
Want to know my secret? Here it is; I hate discomfort. If it’s in my power to adjust, I do. I consider my discomfort a gift against complacency. When it got uncomfortable enough to be in my own skin, I crawled out. Sounds easier than it was, and I can assure you it was a haul. Gone are the days where I have to unbutton the top of my pants to draw a breath after a heavy meal. Food brain fog is no longer part of my daily life.
This isn’t a blog meant to bash overweight and happy folks. Nor am I promoting the thinner the better. For me, it’s about how much discomfort I’ll tolerate, and how long I am willing to tolerate it for. Live according to your values. If you feel that you’re happy being overweight, no judgment here. Being overweight won’t affect your ability to live a meaningful life or find love, happiness and friendship, unless you let it. But if you are someone who is looking for a plan, pick one. There’s too much on the market to tell yourself you can’t find something that works for your personal needs.
I adore this Brian Tracy quote, “You can make excuses or you can make progress. You choose.”
Which will you do?