Keeping on track is so F*cking HARD!

I've done really well for the first month of 2016. Sure, I had some snack attack moments and lazy days, but I've had more good days than bad, obviously, and the results are showing. Now comes the hard part... that razors edge between fear I'm going to fail (again) and complacency that I'm doing "so good" (giving me permission to cheat). And then there's the problem of the conflict between my intellectual goals and my emotional goals. Yeah, its complicated.

Intellectually I want to return to being physically healthy and fit. A pretty ambiguous goal, so lets quantify it a bit. I want to shift my body composition to under 16% body fat. I want to reduce my excess body mass so that what weight I do carry about is productive, not a hindrance. I want to strengthen my body such that I support my structure and protect myself from injury... and such that I can do most any activity I want to (from hiking a trail to splitting logs with a maul). I want to reduce my waist size so that I can fit back into 36" waist pants, which will make shopping SO MUCH EASIER! I want to improve muscle tone so that when I wear something that "body hints" (not hugs, or is a 2nd skin) that I move with a physicality that leaves no doubt that though I'm not a "fitness model" I can handle myself and life from a place of strength. I want to lower my cholesterol and my blood pressure to my pre-40s levels.

Emotionally, all that is bullshit. I want to be able to peel of my shirt and turn heads. I want people to look at me and think I'm in my early 30s not late 40s. I want to get those second glances, not because I'm the "pretty boy" I was when I was younger (and though I didn't admit it, I was one of the pretty boys) but because I look like a "hunky man". I don't want to be a kid, I want to be one of those mature guys people look to and say "I want to be like him". I want to look in the mirror and feel like a f*cking boss! I want to be able to break some foul-mouthed shit in half, not that I -would-, but just knowing I could and others believing it is awesome (and I used to exist in that reality). Yeah, I want to look in the mirror and confidently say "I'd do me".

That's pretty pathetic. I am 47 years old and I have the same emotional obsession with being the "hot guy" as I had at 17. I keep telling myself that my intellectual goals are realistic, that they are mature and honest, and for the most part they are. But what's driving me? WHY am I trying to make these changes... no one is DRIVEN by intellectual reasons. Even pure academics push into the unknown not from the intellectual rewards, but from some emotional need that is tied to their intellect, the high of being right, the stubborn need to never give up, whatever... in the end it is our EMOTIONS that drive us, not our intellect. Our intellect gives us the means to achieve, but our emotions provide the fuel/power/force to get us there.

Can a 47 year old guy really accomplish something meaningful fueling it with 17 year old emotions? More importantly, SHOULD HE? I have shaken my head at and criticized friends who kept trying to fuel their lives from some adolescent need... being frozen at some younger time in their lives and always trying to "get back to" that point when they thought their were at their peak. How do I mature my desires without losing the fire of youth? I'm not sure yet... but I suppose that's the whole thing about self improvement & self discovery... its a journey, not a destination...

from www.spiritpond.com

Gremlins of the Soul: Our Little Self-Destructive Habits

This is the problem with working on yourself... if you're honest, and have the eyes to see below the surface, a lot of unpleasantness becomes visible about week 4. It takes about 28 days to begin to establish new habits. If you're trying to establish healthy, self-affirming, beneficial habits, some time between day 21-28 you will start meeting resistance. Most of us will attribute this resistance to exterior sources like conflicting work schedules, responsibilities to friends or family, finances, or even injuries new or old which thwart us.

Of course, very few of these external pressures are real obstacles. The real obstacles, and far more insidious than anything we encounter outside of ourselves, are the gremlins. My wife calls them her inner demons, or the chorus (think Greek plays), or the dreaded "Editor/Critic". Mine aren't so big and intimidating in and of themselves. I have a tendency to be a dragon-slayer... you put a big, ugly obstacle in front of me (interior or exterior) and I defiantly pick up my sword (usually a stick or other far from impressive item) and charge, yelling, "YOU AREN'T THE BOSS OF ME!" And, surprisingly, that usually works.

No, I no longer have huge inner demons or dragons of despair residing in the shadows. My closet has been open (in all senses of the word) for years and there is nothing hiding in there for others to be horrified by. No, my self-destructive impulses know not to present me with something I can fight... I'm far too clever, both in a positive and negative way, to make it that easy. My little, warped, distorted, and dark reflections of myself are the size of gremlins, and infinitely more vicious. Individually and in packs they descend (or ascend?) upon me, taking small bites and claw slashes before scampering back into the shadows, out of reach. Over time, these little beasties bleed me out inside, tiring me, leaving me feeling weak and on the verge of collapse, emotionally, spiritually, and eventually physically.

They do little things, like insight me to grab just a handful of nuts, or a piece of chocolate, or a refreshing glass of milk late at night... after I've already had all the food I need, or should eat. They slow my progress towards goals until I sit down and just stare ahead instead of continuing to walk because I'm too worn out. And the saddest part of this kind of chronic battle of little disappointments, frustrations, and fears is that SUCCESS doesn't kill them off. You can't take a big boulder of accomplishment and squash the damnable little things under it like you can a bugbear. They just scatter in all directions when the boulder is lobbed their way, and it crashes down with a earth quaking force... that changes nothing.

This week the gremlins are attacking with brutal ferocity. Attacking on professional, intellectual, emotional, and physical levels. Any one of these wounds would be minor... I'd just bandage it up and keep on going... but I can feel that emotional bloodloss, and that always feels like "futility"... see the insidious in that? Not "hopelessness", that'd be too big... something I could defy... no, they always leave me with a sense of "futility"... sure, I can "hope" for more, I can see it is possible to overcome... but will "I" be able to stick it out... and even if I do, will it be worth it? Why bother?

Now, that being said, I should point out that I'm not suicidal, nor am I going to "give up". This is not "defeat", but only an acknowledgement that my life isn't all roses and bunnies (and yes, I love roses and bunnies).