Armed with a need to prove to myself I could do it, these two things helped make it possible
I purposefully took on more than I (thought) I could chew.
The conflict between wanting to feel better about myself but not knowing how to do it in a way that allowed me to keep all my habits (i.e. comforts) I’ve grown used to in tact, was becoming a daily battle.
We’ve all experienced those mornings when we wake up and think, “Ok, today is the day, I’m going all in on healthy living! I’m tossing the lattes, the chips, the cheese, the bread, the carbs”, and for a moment we’re all like “f*ck yea, I got this” as we saunter into the bathroom.
But by 4 pm we’re ravenous beasts and our minds literally throw sideways glances at us as we try to throw out the last box of thin mints. “I forgot these were here, I'll just have one and then throw the box out.” Rrrrrright.
I needed to end such madness and prove to myself I could make a change. I felt it would be big, and hard, and there would be an internal revolution but it would be worth it. The daily battle was just getting to be too annoying to be honest.
So I made a plan, and if you know me, I don’t do plans. I’m a last-minute, pressure-player kind of gal—and I realized that if I kept holding onto that identifying marker, I’d be doomed for eternity. (Bonus chops lesson #1: begin to re-identify yourself.)
Once I devised a plan, I realized my attempt to overhaul my life wasn’t so much an overhaul—it was more of a mere misalignment I had to fix—like when car tires are out of alignment and begin subtly pulling you off-road despite your straight-and-narrow steering. My mind and body were simply not aligned.
So I took the next step and told at least five people what I was planning to do—which put me on squarely on the hook. (Bonus chops lesson #2: put yourself on the hook.)
Before my start date, I began mentally prepping. This is essential. If I didn’t mentally prep, if I just dove right in, I knew my laziness would kick in like a turbo-booster and would begin firing away with its list of excuses, rationalizations, and justifications for staying the same. (Because it loves “the same”. It’s ALL ABOUT being “the same” because it’s curated what activities kept it safe. And, as you may know, safe is always a good place for the lazy mind.)
Here’s how I mentally prepped:
1. I made a decision.
I know, it sounds totally wimpy but if there’s one thing that ever got things done, it was making a decision. A firm and unwavering one. When you’re going to dismantle an ingrained habit or routine that isn’t serving you, you’re going to need that firm decision to keep that part of you that’s determined to make it work as active and inspired as you possibly can, and a decision does that. It creates, eek, discipline. It shows your needy and lazy brain who’s actually in charge (that would be you, the non-lazy one). Decisions are gold. And if you let them, they go beyond you.
A decision is a choice to believe in yourself but also to believe that what you’re doing can affect others. I used my decision as a tool for coaching. If I could make this bold decision to change, I would be able to turn around and help others who are stuck on this circling lazy susan of wanting but not doing. Of trying but not succeeding. (Because I KNOW we’re all tired of that!)
My decision was to forgo pasta, pizza, bread, sweets, booze, and snacking in any form - plus workout for 20 minutes every single day - for a month. Yes, they’re personal decisions to help improve my health, they’re not ending world hunger or advocating for world peace—but they speak to me because if I succeed, I know I can help at least one person. And if I can help one, I betcha I can help 100. (Bonus chops lesson #3: have a ‘this is bigger than me” why.)
Make a bold and daring decision to believe in your abilities and let it go beyond you—think of how your actions can help or affect others. Become the inspiration.
The next thing I did:
2: Reminded myself every day that it was going to be easy.
I literally said over and over in my head—and to the 5 people I told—that this was going to be easy because IT HAD TO BE!!! There was no other way.
The moment my brain would go on its soapbox about this being the most difficult thing it ever had to do as it burst into tears and sunk to the ground in a heap of failed dreams, I jumped in—the conscious part of me that is—and said, No, this is going to be easy. THIS WILL BE EASY!
That was it. (I knoooowww, so anti-climatic and unglam, is that all I really had to do?) YES. That was it. On repeat. It’s a pattern interrupt and it’s staggering how effective it was.
Think of it this way, if I were to let the conversation play out—like it always has in the past—it turns into a self-fulfilling prophecy, making it hard as hell to get through 30 days of having to fight that battle. Because (A-HA moment!) the mental battle is what makes it incredibly hard to stick with anything the mind deems uncomfortable. It will go on and on and tell you ALL ABOUT IT if you let it, which we do all the time. That’s why change is so hard—our brains fight us every uncomfortable step of the way.
Unless you take charge.
First, you make a decision—this creates the discipline needed and any Navy SEAL out there will tell you discipline is always the way to freedom - Jocko much?—and then you reinforce that decision by telling your brain it’s going to be ok, it will be easy. This lulls the anxious, fearful part of the brain back to sleep.
This requires conscious present-moment awareness—you need to be all in, doing the thinking instead of being run over by Chicken Little’s thoughts.
Mind you, I wasn’t forcefully destroying the thought, pushing it down, or ignoring it. I heard it loud and clear and if I wanted to, as I have in the past, I could have let it go on and on until it worked me up into such a tizzy I’d be wrought with anxiety and dread— things I’m no longer in the mood to deal with.
When I told people it was actually going to be easy, I felt a sense of calm take over. There was no heightening of blood pressure, no dilated eyes, no urge to run for cover.
I refused to let the conversation of old take place. That’s why I purposefully took on more than I have before because not only did I want to prove to myself I could make the change, but that it didn’t matter how big or small the goal was, the most important thing to deal with was the internal conversation. That was all I had to focus on all month long—keeping that conversation from happening by interrupting it with a “this is going to be easy”.
And it was never a lie and it was never a stretch. It became easy. It had no other choice.
Join me each week as I keep the musings popping with my Sunday Funday Letter — it’s a mimosa-clinking good time where we chat about life, goals, and how to FINALLY stop snacking in front of the fridge while trying to figure out what to make for dinner! (Just me??)