As I walk past the mirror for the umpteenth time, I ask myself if all of my hard work is being done in vain. With the workouts I’ve been doing, the fat hanging over my bra shouldn’t be there. And why isn’t my stomach flat by now? I’m avoiding all of my favorite foods just for the process to feel like there’s no process even taking place. Is this worth it?
Pessinae (the messy, negative devil on my shoulder): “It’s been about a month that you’ve dedicated to getting fit. If that dream body ain’t here yet, it ain’t coming. You may as well give it up.”
Optinae (the hopeful, encouraging angel): Eggzactly… it’s only been a month. Be real. Was Rome built in a month’s time? You’ve got this. Just keep going.
Being a pessimist is easy. Optimism takes guts. It’s simpler to embrace self-defeat. It takes less work to accept my current fate and to allow doubt to suck me into its folds like quicksand. Yet, if I were to divert my attention toward the positive, even for 0.01 of a second, I’d notice things aren’t that bad. The better choice is obvious. I have to adapt to reframing my negative thoughts into more hopeful ones.
Things take time and consistency. If I want to get fit, I have to do more than put in the work. I also need to know when to kick back and patient when the results don’t come as quickly as I’d prefer them to. It’d be useful to keep in mind that beating myself up won’t make them come faster. That may even halt the process altogether. Great things will happen as long as I believe it to be possible.
What about you?
We spend most of our lives inside our heads. Is yours a nice place to be?