THERE IS A BATTLE GOING ON INSIDE OF ME. A terrible fight between two racers. One is evil and weak and lazy, one is good and strong and determined. My grandson asked me who will win...
... The one I feed.
Is this true...?
The battle, yes.
The convo, not yet.
On the surface, I could tell you how this weekend I skipped the cookies, muffins, ice cream, and most of the chips. That's easy, because...
... I don't crave that junk any more.
I wasn't surprised to jump on the scale tonight and see things are where they should be, even after a funfilled 3 days with the whole family.
Which isn't really the point of my ripped off version of the Cherokee legend, about feeding the wolf.
The point is the racer we pay attention to will get stronger.
A long time ago,
over about a decade,
I'd packed on 30 lbs of blubber,
I was feeding an ex-racer who I hardly recognized.
When I decided it was time to course correct,
I cut out a picture of a favorite racer,
and pasted my head over his,
and taped to my mirror.
That simple act
was so powerful.
I'd see future me...
... and feed the good racer, accordingly.
No strength training
20 minutes recovery
30 minutes reading + Journaling