My friend Courtney, who is easily one of the most naturally gorgeous people I know, has talked me into potentially making an ass of myself.
You see, Courtney has a baby who is almost a year old now, and she has decided that she is sick and tired of carrying around her extra “baby weight”. While most people I know would never look at Courtney and see anything but a drop dead gorgeous blond bombshell, she’s decided that’s not good enough for her. She wants to be healthy and in shape.
Unfortunately for me, Courtney is not only beautiful, but ridiculously fucking sweet. You’d have to be a major jerk to ever be able to tell this woman no. And, so, when she asked me if I would be interested in doing the 12 week Body-for-Life challenge with her, I said yes. When she asked me if I was sure, I said yes again. All three times.
Truth be told, I didn’t agree just because she is irresistibly sweet.
I? Am sick and tired of watching my body go to shit. I’m tired of being tired in the afternoon. I’m tired of my preschooler beating me in our daily foot race to her school’s front door – and not because I let her win, but because my legs and lungs are burning by the time I get half way up the sidewalk. I’m tired of reaching the end of the day and knowing that I didn’t take care of myself as well as I should. I’m tired of writing article after article about health and weight loss and knowing that I am a statistic waiting to happen.
But I’m also freaking terrified.
Because I? Am not so great at finishing things. I’ve finished high school, the Twilight series, and several already canceled TV series on DVD. And an entire cheesecake by myself. Repeatedly. But beyond that? Not so much. I have started a great many things in my life. I started college. I started ROTC. I started exercise programs and cycling classes. I’ve bought (and sold) a treadmill, an exercise ball, a Wii Fit and a library full of fitness DVDs. But finishing has never been my strong suit.
I’m afraid that starting this and not finishing it will reinforce an internal belief that I am a quitter. That I have no follow through. That I’m weak willed. That I’m scatter brained and well intentioned but lack self discipline. I am scared out of my mind of having to face myself as that person.
I have never felt the fear of failure as strongly as I do right now – but I’m trying anyway.
I used up my remaining gift card balance at Amazon and bought the Body-for-Life book and the Body-for-Life Success Journal. I’ve read the book and will spend the weekend writing my goals and taping my “before” picture into the journal. Dear God Help Me, I’m going to actually take a before picture. In my swimsuit. And print it out and tape it in a freaking book so that I have to look at it every day. And then I will probably ask my husband a hundred times a day what in the hell he is thinking by having sex with me.
This weekend I’ll plan my meals for my first week and go grocery shopping. On Sunday night, I’ll sit down and plan out my workout routine for the next morning. I’ve set a date with Courtney and my other friend who might not yet want to make her commitment public to get together next Sunday and discuss our progress.
And now I’m telling you, in the hopes that the idea of failing publicly will help motivate me to keep going when I’m tempted to quit.
Because oh, dear Lord, how I am afraid to quit.