The pain of discomfort, or the pain of regret

Choose. The future you want depends on it.

I have regained a lot of weight but at least my fitness is still good enough to go for a bike ride around one of my favorite places, Lake Padden in Bellingham, WA.

“You can have the pain of discomfort or the pain of regret. Choose. The future you want depends on it.” –Sandi Amorim

Guys. This is the lesson I am learning over and over again: if I want to lose this weight and support my health I have to overcome my resistance and do it. The resistance has been sky high and my anxieties are having a field day. Which tells me just how irrational they are because there are a lot of good things happening in my life right now, like our move to Rose Cottage next month, and a business that is going strong despite worries over increasing interest rates and a recession.

The truth is that a large part of me prefers to stay in the bubble where life feels safe, even though I know that this is just a belief and not reality, and that in the longterm it does more harm than good. The unhealthy behaviors inside my bubble not only lead to my obesity, they also lead to physical problems that only get worse as I get older.

So I am pulling the emergency brakes and stopping this runaway train I’ve been on for the last couple of months.

I am choosing the pain of discomfort over the pain of regret.

I am choosing my mental and physical health over addiction.

My favorite tools on this journey: my weight loss planner and companion journal.

To stop the train and regain my footing I am committing to the following for the next four weeks:

1. Five deep breaths, first thing in the morning. One each for intention, clarity, presence, nourishment and joy.

2. Morning journaling. Whether it’s just one sentence or a 5-page essay, I will begin my morning with my journal to help me ground myself and set my intentions for the day.

3. My program. I already know what works, when I do it. My K-Plan includes daily meal planning + tracking, drinking at least 96oz of water, less snacking, watching my portions, skipping dinner on Tuesdays and Thursdays (which are my husband’s fasting days), and daily walks, weather permitting.

4. Quitting sugar. This is part of my program but I am listing it separately because it’s that important. Sugar is my kryptonite and abstaining is easier for me than moderating. The last time I quit sugar I felt great after about four weeks, I am doing this for my body as well as mind.

5. The pause.

I did consider whether I should wait until after the move to put on the emergency brakes but that is just my resistance’s wishful thinking. None of the things above are hard, if anything they will give me more energy and mental space for all that we need to do over the next few weeks. “All” that is required of me is my attention. I say “all” in quotes because attention does not come easy to me, it’s where all of my discomfort happens.

I am giving myself a time-limit of four weeks because it helps me to do this in chunks: commit to it for a doable stretch of time and then re-assess and make changes as/if needed, and then commit to the next chunk.

So, for the next four weeks I am choosing the pain of discomfort over the pain of regret. Will you join me?