My hip hurts. No biggie really, but the first thought that went through my mind was that I won’t be able to run tomorrow. Immediately I changed that thought, after all, athletes run through pain all the time. If it hurts too much to run I can always walk. It’s not an injury, just a little inflammation. (My hips haven’t been the same since I had Luke. One of my legs is now shorter than the other–long story. I forgot to wear my orthotic.) The big change though is that before I would’ve let that keep me from going tomorrow. Then the next day, and the next day, and the next. Before long I’d be fat, out of shape and so disgusted and ashamed that I wouldn’t want to do anything. Excuses. Excuses. Excuses. Not this time. Unless that leg falls off, I’ve got an appointment at the Y every morning for pretty much the rest of my life. Epiphany for real.
I’ve had the same type revelation about food. I realized that I’ve had two boiled eggs for breakfast every day for two weeks. I’m a gourmet cook, and always hated to diet because of the boring repetition. Now I look at food as fuel. Sustenance. Not entertainment. Not a pacifier. Simply a necessity to keep my body going. Like gas in the car. As long as it’s wholesome and nutritious it serves its purpose. By George I think I got it.