I'm really good at spending so much time thinking about doing something that I have myself convinced that I am actually doing whatever it is.
I've done this with writing. Every now and then I go on these mental tangents during which I am convinced I have a writer trapped inside me. I think about writing books. I read books about writing. I even come up with writing schedules for myself. But do I write? Um, not really.
It has happened with reading, too. Big plans to read lots of books. Or going to graduate school.
The list goes on.
The truth, though, is that I am not really doing those things. As much as I think I want to, there's very little action taken to achieve these goals.
I'm working on becoming an active person. Yes, yes, the health and fitness thing, too, but that's not exactly what I mean. Though that is definitely related. I mean to say that I want to be the kind of person who chooses action over inaction. I'm pretty sure I'm the kind of person that people routinely want to grab by the shoulders, shake, and say, "Stop talking about it and just do it!"
Now, I have to admit that I have done very well at doing the actions necessary to get this weight-loss journey going. I didn't sit around and hem and haw about this one. I just did it. (Okay, so maybe I had sat around hemming and hawing for a decade or so. Whatever.) Six months ago, I decided that I could do this, and I started making good eating choices.
Sixty pounds later, I'm starting to see an old habit forming. These days, I feel like I'm thinking and talking about this lifestyle change more than I'm actually doing it. Granted, I am making better choices than I would have six months ago. I'm eating healthier and eating less. I think before I eat. I have formed great habits.
But I see them crumbling a little bit. My resolve is slipping. I make bad choices. The only difference between six months ago and now is that I know I'm making a bad choice when I do. I'm conscious of it. I feel guilt about it.
I don't want to be that person who says she's on a diet, but instead of eating well, she shovels in the unhealthy stuff all the while saying, "I really shouldn't be eating this."
That is incredibly obnoxious.
But that's who I've felt like lately. And it occurred to me yesterday that it's the very same as talking about doing something, but not actually doing it, like writing. Those days when I fall off the wagon and talk about getting back on it? I'm really just off the wagon, as much as I like to visualize myself on it.
I don't want to be on a diet, though. I don't want to be on a wagon. That's where the guilt comes from. I don't want to feel guilty for making bad choices. It seems silly.
I have to forgive myself and move on. I have to look back at what I've accomplished so far, which is a lot, and realize that I can do better than this wallowing. I am better than this. I have to grab myself by the shoulders, shake, and say, "Stop talking about it and just do it!"
Side note: Jack over at Jack Sh*t, Gettin' Fit is an awesome (entertaining, inspirational, hilarious, truthful) blogger, and today's post may or may not have something to do with my own.