I hate to admit that I’m not the world expert on EVERYTHING.  Particularly when it comes to weight and fitness.  See, I think I’ve got it going on.  I run ultra-marathons, I climb high mountains.  I’ve been on every freaking diet known to man.  I’ve done the raw food thing, and the alkalizing schtick, and the protein/fat/carbohydrate separating gig.

But about a year ago I started putting on some weight.  At first it was a couple of pounds.  But that turned into 5.  Then 7.  And it was only when I packed on 12 pounds that I started getting hysterical.

Here’s what happens when we recognize we don’t like how things are going in our lives.  We justify our inaction.  We say, “It isn’t so bad.  Things will right themselves.  I’ll eventually get a handle on it.”  We complain a lot to our girlfriends.  We say things like, ” I don’t know what’s wrong with me.  It must be stress.  What do you think?  Do you think I’m stressed?”  And they listen to us, and nod their head sagely.  And after about the 50th time you mention the same EXACT problem, they roll their eyes and fantasize about bitch slapping you into outer space.  Because no one wants to be an agony aunt.  No one wants to offer advice to someone who has no intention of fixing the fucking problem.

So I decided I needed to take matters under control and I hired a diet coach.  Her name is Elizabeth Anderson.  I hired her because she has the most amazing body AND story.  After having 4 kids, she turned her flabby body around in 6 MONTHS and became a body building champion.  She’s a fitness model, a beauty pageant queen, and she’s seriously drop dead gorgeous.  I know!  If she wasn’t so damn nice I’d hate her.

 

But more.

I hired a coach because I wanted accountability.  I wanted someone to call me on my own bullshit.  I wanted someone to listen to what was getting in my way and offer me solutions.  Solutions I would never have come up with myself.  

I have an appointment with her today.  I have to explain to her why my weight loss has stalled.  I have to explain to her why I haven’t done what I told her I would do. And let me tell you something, that confession alone has a serious way of putting me right back on track. I can’t slink back to my cozy little hole and delude myself.

So. What problem are you pretending will magically go away?  What do you keep bitching about instead of stepping up to the plate to take action on?

Still got that deadbeat boyfriend laying around the house?   Still letting the kids run the show?  Still giving your all to a relationship with zero in return? Overwhelmed because you haven’t the faintest clue how to say NO?

Mmm-hmmm.  Maybe it’s time you invested in yourself.  Just sayin’