Tag Archives: Fitness

A Reality Check, In Two Parts

There are a lot of reasons why I’m really excited for spring to get here: the warm weather, to not feel cold all of the time, not having to worry about trying to drive in the snow, getting to wear tank tops again, the huge fluffy clouds and feeling of renewal with the sun shining every day…

…to run again.

I won’t lie: ever since I started taking fitness and the shape of my body seriously, I got seriously concerned about surviving the winter months. Especially since I can’t afford a gym membership and running outside was just not a option, with how cold it gets here and the less than ideal pavement conditions. Over the holidays, I did really well, only fluctuating between a pound and two. I was still walking over 5,000 steps a day, which is not ideal, but it’s better than nothing.

Then, I got sick with the flu and hardly moved at all for two weeks. And this past week, I ate worse than I have in…well, a long time. Don’t get me wrong: the food was good, but I completely threw out all of the lessons I’d learned, through Naturally Slim, which were some key components to the healthier lifestyle (and weight loss that accompanied) I was creating.

I had to force myself to weigh this morning, because I knew it wasn’t going to be pretty.

It was, “You just gained five pounds in one week” kinda ugly.

I wasn’t that surprised, honestly. It reflected the time after being sick and not moving, not eating well and not taking the best care of myself, while also trying to get back to being 100% health wise to begin with. On top of that, there was also a lack of willpower, when I’d snack even though I wasn’t hungry, drink my calories and just eat poorly, even though I knew, mentally, that wasn’t what my body needed or had become accustomed to.

I’m absolutely 100% disappointed in myself.

Today, I returned back to the principles I knew. I’ve been drinking water, I got back to my normal eating schedule (and logging my food, something I haven’t been doing, either) and am back eating within my needed calorie range. I also did some indoor exercises today that aren’t going to help with weight loss, but I want to get stronger and strengthen some muscles, and these are exercises I want to incorporate into my routine, once I’m able to run again, so I’m doing cardio and weights. Plus, working up at least some sweat was needed.

I did all of this instead of beating myself up (too much) or giving into despair and diving even worse, abandoning everything I learned and worked for in the past year.

In that way, I’m proud of myself. The scale provided me with the reality check of how easy it is to let your habits slip between your fingers and how easy it is to slip up.

Yet I also got the reality check that I’m putting too much pressure on the number on that scale.

Honestly, looking in the mirror, I’m not seeing too much a difference, physically, now that I added those five pounds back. Granted, I still plan on getting rid of them (and more besides, to reach my end goal), but I’m not suddenly the whale I feel like. I do feel not as well, though. I’m getting hungrier easier and I can tell I’m wanting to eat more, even though I know I don’t need to. Yet I know, I continue to work and shape my body the way I want and that number on the scale was the same as it is now, I’d be okay with that, because I’m still looking and feeling the way I want.

So why am I beating myself up so much now?

I think about this a lot, this change I’ve made in my life. I stress about it often, as well; fearing going back to where I once was, where this wasn’t an important aspect of my life. I actually really enjoy it. I like being in charge of how my body looks and feels (as much as I can) and shaping it into something I’m proud of. Yet I don’t like getting stressed out over it; for beating myself up when I slip up or when my progress falters ever so slightly. Five pounds is a lot, yes, but it isn’t something I can’t conquer. Plus, I learned how strong my willpower will have to be in the winter (or how I’ll have to adjust my wallet to make having a gym membership a necessity, in the future), which is a good lesson to learn, too, even if it means I have more work ahead of me to reach my ultimate goal.

It’s always a learning process, deciding to take your health in your hands and getting into fitness. Honestly, though? Learning to be forgiving is probably the hardest lesson I’ve encountered so far. Right now, all I want to do is beat myself up for messing up, but really?

I’m still doing just fine.



Just Breathe

Sometimes, I just put way too much pressure on myself.

Losing weight is definitely one of those areas.

It’s been a really exciting feeling, seeing the pounds slowly slip off the scale. A first, for sure, especially of this magnitude. I’ve finally find a rhythm, though I’m still figuring out a few kinks. Testing different workout routines and stretching exercises, resetting my set point and hunger levels, adjusting to my constantly changing summer work schedule and still trying to figure out how to not go over my calorie goal on the weekends, are a few of those kinks I’m still hoping to hammer out.

Oh and not putting so much pressure on myself to continue losing weight.

I didn’t really realize how much pressure was weighing me down until I noticed a pattern, these past few weeks. If I miss a run, I immediately feel guilt. If I eat some mozzarella sticks at Sonic, I instantly feel like a cow. Every Monday morning, I have a sick feeling in my gut when I go to weigh myself. I’m constantly nervous that I’m going to gain the weight that I’ve lost back or that the progress I’ve made isn’t real.

And I’m not really sure why I’m feeling that way. Why I’m so scared if I gain a little weight back or if it takes me a while to drop down to 160 pounds. I’m putting so much pressure on myself to keep up this success, acting like if I experience one hiccup or one bump in the road, I’ll completely derail any forward progress and go back to hating the way I look instead of learning to love myself as I have these past six months.

But here’s the thing: my weight is going to fluctuate all the time. One day I could be two pounds heavier than I was yesterday and the next day, I could be a pound lighter than I was when I last weighed. That’s okay. That’s normal. So I shouldn’t be freaking out that it has taken me three weeks to lose one pound when I was averaging two-three pounds. I shouldn’t be so concerned or panicked that I’m going to gain a couple pounds back. I shouldn’t feel like, if I do, I’ve suddenly “lost” and it will be impossible to get back on track.

Because I’m smarter than I was before. I know about portion control and eating when I’m hungry and stopping when I’m full. I’ve come to love running again and enjoy the sensation of pushing myself to run a little faster or jog that extra mile (literally). I have a lot more control of what goes into my body and how active I am and I know how to live a healthy lifestyle. So even if every day isn’t the best example of implementing that knowledge doesn’t mean I’m not working towards creating healthy habits and choices for life.

Also, I need to take a step back and look at my real goal, here. Is it a number on the scale or is it living a healthy lifestyle? Is it losing X amount of pounds or is it working hard to sculpt a body I’m proud of and love in the mirror, regardless of that number? Though reaching 160 pounds would be nice, at this point, I’m just happy to be living a healthy lifestyle. If I continue living healthier and stay at 179 like I am right now, then that’s totally fine. Because I’m starting to love my body and the way it looks, even if there are still some things I’d change. And that’s an amazing feeling, too.

So a reminder to me, from me: just breathe. Focus every day on doing what makes you happy and keeping that happiness flowing. Stop focusing so much on weight and numbers and miles and steps and calories. While all those things are important, living life is ever more so. You’ll find the balance you need between the two. For now, just breathe.


Running Anxiety

I’m not sure how long you could actually label me a runner, but I’ve had runner’s anxiety for as long as I could remember.

It’s a really stupid feeling where you’re worried about what everyone else thinks concerning your own running style.

For the longest time, this anxiety was so intense, I would actually avoid running at all costs. I couldn’t run at the gym because it was always so crowded, everyone could see me, everyone else running would most likely lap me and inevitably everyone at the gym wouldn’t be focused on their own workouts or striving to achieve their own goals; no, obviously they’d be too focused on watching me and judging me. Running outside was off the table, too, because even though it’s less crowded, you never know when you’ll pass another runner and then you spend the rest of your run worrying about their impression of you.

Stupid, right?

Yet that fear was so real. For a very long time. So I wouldn’t run. And because running was my favorite form of exercise, this meant I just wouldn’t do any physical activity at all. I was too concerned with what everyone else thought. About my running form and whether I was doing it properly or not. About my physical appearance and how I was “too big” to run, how you can see my thighs jiggle or my arm flab shake, how my face gets really red, my breathing labored and my entire body just becomes a sweat bucket. About my running speed and how when I claim to be running, I’m actually jogging or fast walking at a really quick pace (which translates to running at a really slow one). On average, it takes me between 14-15 minutes to run a mile. Not very fast.

For years, I let all these concerns of fleeting judgments and the opinions of strangers stop me from achieving weight loss and strength building goals surrounding my own body that I had for just as many years as I did the anxiety, if not even longer.

But then last November, my heart was a little confused and a lotta hurt by this guy who ghosted on me. I’d cried too many tears, yet a mix of emotions was still raging inside of me and I just wanted to be rid of them, and crying wasn’t doing the trick. I had no idea how to release them. So I went for a run.

And for the rest of that day, felt amazing.

 running dogs puppy parade GIF

Not all of us can be this cute when running. Or smile and run at the same time. 

Granted, my heart still hurt and my body was sore as hell, but I experienced something I hadn’t in years, the main reason I love running in the first place: that natural, endorphin-driven high you get after running, i.e., the runner’s high. I didn’t realize how much I missed that feeling. So I kept running, for five weeks straight, before winter’s cold kinda ruined my groove. And though I haven’t had a streak that long since, I have been running more consistently since November, even if more consistently is only one or two runs a week.

It’s July.

If you read last week’s post, you’ll see there has been some progress made in my self-love journey thanks to that change. Progress that could have been made years ago, if I could have ignored my anxiety and pushed forward anyway. Because honestly? That anxiety was really pointless. Nine times out of ten, any other runners aren’t thinking about you at all when they pass you on the trail. If they do, the thought or judgment is fleeting, at best. At worst, it might be a comment like, “I saw this slow runner on the path today” they bring up to their family at dinner, but hopefully, it’s followed by a positive spin like, “but I was really impressed that I saw them on that trail. It’s obvious they were trying.”

Because here’s the thing, friends. So what if I’m a really slow runner? So what if my body jiggles when I run? So what if I don’t pump my arms enough or my strides are short instead of long? The only point is: I’m running. I am trying. Sure, a 15-minute mile isn’t exactly impressive generally, but for me personally, all I care about is that I completed that mile. And then ran another (and if I’m feeling really motivated, even a third mile in one run). It’s about completion, not speed.

The most ironic thing is, any time I see a runner, whether while I’m running, too, or just out on the street while I’m driving by, I’ve never once judged them. Usually, my reactions spanned from being super impressed, being super jealous or feeling guilt that I wasn’t out there running, too. Quite frankly, the larger the person, the more impressed I was, because I understood how difficult that was for them, yet they were doing it anyway. Who knows how many times I’ve motivated a stranger to push a little harder or impressed someone because I was out there running? Not to mention the number of waves, smiles or thumbs up I’ve gotten from other people during running. Or how amazing I feel afterwards. It’s gotten to the point that, when I didn’t run at all last week, my mood actually blackened and depression kinda took a hold of me again. That’s how important running has become to me.

Looking back at all the anxiety I felt–which was very real, but not very logical–I could almost laugh, but I mostly just shake my head and wish I’d conquered my own mind a little bit sooner and didn’t wait until running was my last resort and only option to release some pent up emotions. I can’t lie and say there aren’t times when I’m passed by a really fit runner or I’m just having an off-day, that anxiety doesn’t creep up again and whisper in my ear.

I’m pretty jazzed that I’m now able to tell it to shut up and keep on running.


One of the Neatest Things

Since last November, I’ve lost 19 pounds.

That’s something I never thought I’d write, let alone be my reality.

It is…one of the neatest things.

Part of me wants to apologize for even writing this post, because how braggy can someone get? Yet if you’ve ever stumbled upon this blog or have followed it for years, chances are, you’ve read a post about depression and self-hatred. You’ve read about the struggle I’ve had loving myself, most particularly the way I look. You’d know I’ve been fighting this battle for a long, long time.

You understand how monumental this feels for me.

So my apologies if I brag here for a moment.

 disney supernatural sherlock marvel dean winchester GIF

Like I have so many times before, last November, I told myself, “You need to lose weight. You need to become healthy. You need to create a body that you can look in the mirror and love.” For my height, the healthy weight range is 140-165. My goal has always been to get to 160 pounds and as the years have gone by, the amount of weight I’ve needed to lose to reach that point has only continued to increase. In high school, I was around 185 pounds, but by my senior year of college, I had finally hit that dreaded (to me) point and passed into the 200 range. I had reached the point where I had to lose 40 pounds to get to the higher end of my healthy weight range. I felt hopeless and discouraged in a lot of ways. That sort of weight loss was impossible to achieve.

Eight months later, I’m at 181 pounds. One more pound shed and I’ll be halfway to my goal. Two pounds and I’ll be in the 170s. If I lose a pound a week, I could reach my goal by Thanksgiving. Of this year.

Friends, I am floored at this progress. At this milestone. Of wanting the same thing for so long and finally actually doing something to achieve it. I’m floored to actually be able to feel and see the difference. I’m floored that, every once in the while, I look in the mirror and I smile at what I see. There is still plenty I want to change, but damn if I’m not stoked at where I’m at right now. The lowest weight I’ve been since I was in high school. Shaping the body that I want.

The journey itself has been a bit of a whirlwind. There were plenty of weeks where I gained weight or fluctuated between gaining and losing the same few pounds. There have been weeks where I’ve killed every fitness and eating goal I’ve put ahead of me and weeks where the only movement I got was reaching into the chip bag while sitting on my couch. It’s been a lot of trial and error to figure out what works for me and what doesn’t. There’s been times when I’ve had to forgive myself and times I knew I needed to push harder. I know that this journey will continue to change and evolve, as it’s one I’ll have for the rest of my life, because it certainly doesn’t end once I hit 160. I know there will always be hiccups and struggles and roadblocks and setbacks. That’s okay.

But for the first time ever, I’m confident that I’ll also see progress.

That is…one of the neatest things.

So thank you for your support. For encouraging me and challenging me in this journey. For telling me I’m worthy no matter what my size is (because that’s a capital T Truth). And thanks in advance for the future support and the understanding when I decline that dessert you offer or don’t go back for seconds, even though that food was bomb. It’s a lifestyle change that I’m so excited I’ve finally taken control of and I think it’ll always be a work-in-progress, but your encouragement, support and understanding is phenomenal. And I couldn’t do it without you.

Oh, and just for fun (and because I am so frugal and never spend money on anything), I also wanted to share my rewards for the next 20 pounds to lose. I think having a little extra incentive never hurt anyone, especially as I have a feeling the second 20 pounds might be harder to lose than the first.

  • 20 Pounds: New Tattoo
    • Granted, I’d already planned to get this one in August, but I’m going to cheat and count it as my reward.
  • 30 Pounds: Mass Effect Sweatshirt
    • This one might seem silly, but I’ve been eyeing this Mass Effect sweatshirt for many, many months. And it’s $60, which might not be a lot to you, but that’s always been unjustifiable to me. And I think losing 30 pounds is more than enough justification to get a kickass hoodie that I’ll never take off once I own it.
  • 40 Pounds: Die Hair
    • Again, I hate spending money, but especially on “frivolous” things like doing my hair (even though I feel so fantastic after getting it done). It gets expensive and a lot of the time, I just can’t let myself do it when I should be saving my money. But I’ve always wanted to die my hair darker professionally, even though doing so and getting it cut, too, is a bit pricey. But reaching the weight I never thought I’d reach and having my hair look amazing? Yes, please.

If you have some goals or dreams that you’ve always wanted to achieve but never seem to reach that finish line, I really encourage you to take a scary look at what you’re actually doing to achieve them. Before last November, while the dream of loving my body was very real, the actions I was taking to make it a reality were non-existent and thus, the dream was out of reach. And trust me: you want to know what it feels like to work towards what you believe to be impossible dreams and see yourself make progress, with the knowledge that you yourself are the reason you’re achieving them.

It really is one of the neatest things.


The Little Things

When you’re trying to change the way you’re body looks, it’s so easy to get caught up on the numbers on the scale; so easy to get frustrated when you fluctuate between losing and gaining, when you can’t get past that one number or, worse, when you trip up and gain everything back you lost in the weeks prior. It’s easy, when you’re still so far away from your goal, to still look in the mirror and notice all the ways you still need to change and improve; how much work is still ahead of you. It’s easy to maintain old habits and continue to avoid mirrors all together, to get discouraged when your weight goes up instead of down, to feel queasy when you weigh yourself to begin with or to wonder if you’re ever going to reach your goal.

It’s easy to focus and nitpick the little things.

The way your legs still look like cottage cheese. Those love handles that stick out over your pants. The stretch marks. The way your triceps are still flabby. How your calves only look slim at certain angles. Your thighs rub together. Your back fat. How no part of you looks good good in pictures.

You nitpick so much that those little things become something bigger, to the point where you get discouraged, you lose hope or you give up all together.

It’s not as easy to focus on the little things that matter.

Like how the scale went down .2 pounds since last time. How you cut off 10 seconds off your mile time or ran for five more minutes. Adding weight when you’re lifting. How you don’t breathe as hard walking up the stairs. The way you sometimes pause to look at how your jeans fit in the mirror. The slight definition you feel in your muscles, even if you can’t actually see it yet. The moment when you buy a pair of shorts instead of capris to wear over the summer or you wear that two piece despite how your love handles stick out. How you can wear a skirt and your thighs don’t chafe, even though they’re touching.

There are two paths of thought being described, here: the path looking at how far you need to go and the path looking at how far you’ve already come. The former can be dangerous, even detrimental, towards achieving your goals. It’s dark, and once you step onto it, it’s very easy to continue on until you don’t remember the light anymore. The latter is well lit and promising, encouraging you to push forward, no matter how long it takes or how small the proof of progress is. It’s also the harder of the two to choose, especially consistently.

But you must.

In my fitness journey, I get so caught up looking at all the ways I still want to improve that I forget to appreciate how far I’ve already come, only six months in. Sure, the progress is small and the journey is still long, but the progress is present. And if I quit now, I’ll have no second, hopeful path to strive towards. Instead, I’ll slip into a third path of regrets, laden with What ifs, as all I can notice is how I went backwards, instead of forward–even if going forward includes fluctuating numbers on the scale, cheat days with sweets, still avoiding the mirror and feeling like you’re never going to make it. Because if you push forward, if you continue to choose hope and work and effort, you’ll make it. You will.

I want to be excited for a year from now, two years from now, five years from now, to be able to see and feel exactly what traveling down the path of little things that mattered helped me achieve; to reach the goals I’ve had for most of my life yet never reached.

Here’s to the little things, both the ones that push me and the ones that try–and fail–to stop me.


My Varying Degrees of Perception

Perception is weird, friends.

As many of you probably know, I’m trying to improve myself physically. And that comes in many forms–working out more consistently, eating healthier (yet not dieting), buying clothes in the right size, drinking more water, etc. I’ve always had this “ideal” or “dream” image of myself (and it’s evolved and changed, once being too influence by the impossible societal expectations while now, I think my goal shape is a much more healthier and realistic vision). I’ve never reached it, despite trying–with various levels of seriousness and dedication–for years.

This year, I think I’ve definitely been the most consistent and it’s been twelve weeks since I started working out more. Though I’m still nowhere near where I want to be, I’m definitely making strides–or so I thought. And that’s where perception comes in and that is where my confusion lies, because depending on the situation, my perception of myself and my current level of progress/success changes.

For example: ever since I started working out, when I’m dressed, I think my clothes fit a lot better. Granted, I’ve also overcome the really horrible hurdle of associating worth with clothing sizes, i.e., I used to buy a size smaller than what I actually was because I was ashamed of being a Large. Now, depending on the shirt, I’m most often an XL. Same thing happened with jeans (I’m a size 16, btw).* It’s sorta obvious that wearing clothes actually made to fit you will automatically look better–I wish my high school self would have realized that. Yet I still think that they fit even better now, after twelve weeks of going to the gym/running an average of three times a week.

That’s Perception One.

Yet if I’m naked and looking in the mirror, I immediately want to cringe and run away. All I can think about is how massive I am: the stretch marks on my love handles and thighs, how I jiggle when I move, the sudden protrusion of fat at my lower back, how I have such an awkward and inconsistent shape (fit in some places and fat in others). The calves that I thought looked great in my latest pair of leggings suddenly look like massive rocks. My arms that I got giddy noticing slight muscles when I flexed are suddenly overshadowed by the fat that remains.

Perception Two.

My sister hugged me the other day and legitimately said, “Where did you all go?”, referencing to how much weight I’ve lost. My Mom–and Dad, which is saying a lot, considering he doesn’t notice anything–both compliment at my progress and how good I look. Grandma came in town? Same comment. Some people at work have complimented me, claiming I am looking good.

Perception Three.

Like the letters associated with clothing sizes, I’ve also always been terrified of the number associated with the scale. The last time I weighed myself, last year, I was mortified. I’d finally hit that dreaded 2-0-0. I had never felt so horrible about myself and have purposefully avoided the scale since. But after hearing so many compliments and feeling great, I thought I’d try again and see. I am truly stubborn about making working out a lifestyle and being more aware of what I eat this time around, so I was determined to not get discouraged if the number hadn’t changed…or even increased, since I started this quest. As of this weekend, I weigh 196. And though I still went to the gym today, still determined, I am slightly discouraged. How could I make all this progress mentality, that others have noticed, yet only weigh four pounds less?

Perception Four.

No matter what outfit I wear or how great I feel leaving the house, I avoid mirrors in public at all costs, because I believe I look like an over-inflated balloon or a beached whale.

Perception Five.

Yet sometimes, if I catch a glimpse in the mirror right after the gym, I feel beautiful.

Perception Six.

And seven, and eight, and nine and…

You catch my drift.

I think you can also understand my confusion. How can I have all of these perceptions of my appearance, sometimes running into multiple different perceptions in a single day? Which one is right? Can they all be true? Can they all be wrong? How do I maintain the positive thoughts while combating my avoidance of mirrors and my revulsion of my naked self? Will I ever be able to see actual progress, when it happens, or will my vision always be warped, depending on the environment? Will I ever believe it when someone calls me beautiful or will I always respond with, “Well, after I go to the gym for a few years, then…”

Unfortunately, I have no idea how to answer these questions.

Maybe there is no answer. Maybe I’ll never be fully accepting or loving of what my body looks like. But while that may be true, I’m also not full of hatred in every aspect and instance, like I once was. That’s important. I think it’s also important to just realize that yes, there are a lot of different ways I view myself. Sure, there may be no right answer as to which one is “true,” whether it’s Perception Two or Perception Four. Yet the positive perceptions exists. So why am I not fighting to believe in those and hold onto those, instead of focusing so much on those negative moments?

*hums as she chews on these thoughts, hoping they provided something enlightening or encouraging for you, as well*


* Notice how I told you those sizes (not to mention my actual weight) without being ashamed about it? That’s a sign of progress, if nothing else.

Quest for Happiness: Week Two


Let’s jump right into it, shall we?


  • Long-term Goal: Shape the body I want and become healthier.
  • Last Week’s Goal: Go to the gym. Once.
    • Status: Success! I didn’t leave myself any room for error on this one. Tuesday was the first day I had time to go to the gym. When I got home, in-between jobs, I changed clothes, ate lunch and then headed straight there. By the time I walked in, it was too late to give into anxiety or fear what would happen once I arrived. And I surprised myself by actually loving it…and going two more days, making it three in a row for week one.
  • This Week’s Goal: Four days in a row!
    • Definitely doing babysteps. Eventually, I hope to be going five days a week, 45 minutes a day, and incorporating a healthier diet, counting calories (potentially), tracking water and mixing up my fitness routine. But for now, going one more day to the gym than I did last week is a good step forward.


  • Long-term Goal: Edit three books, write four new books and query at least one.
  • Last Weeks Goal: Write three times a week on BLOOD PRICE and outline another novel.
    • Status: Partial Success! I did end up writing three times last week (twice for almost an hour when the goal was 30 minutes and once for only 10 minutes but that is better than nothing). And I got to the point where I’ll be doing more new writing and reworking than I will be editing previously written stuff, so I’m really stoked about that. Didn’t outline another novel. So guess what I’m doing this week?
  • This Week’s Goal: Write four times. Outline novel.


  • Long-term Goal: Read 60 books.
  • Last Week’s Goal: Read every night before bed.
    • StatusSorta? I read four days last week, usually during meals and cranking out 60~ pages per session. Yet I never read before bed, because I was just too dang tired once I got off work. Plus, reading Lynch requires my devout attention, not sneaking in a few more pages with heavy eyes.
  • This Week’s Goal: Finish The Lies of Locke Lamora.


  • Long-term Goal: Increase output over all three blogs, i.e., post more consistently.
  • Last Week’s Goal: Try out new blogging schedule and see if it works.
    • Status: Partial Success! I do really like the new blogging schedule, but I missed it by one blog post for each blog. I think, as the routine grows, I’ll be able to keep it up, but it was a nice trial run week.
  • This Week’s Goal: Write three blog posts for each blog.


  • Long-term Goal: Manage money with more awareness, start retirement fund and build savings.
  • Last Week’s Goal: Balance checkbook for the week.
    • StatusFailed. While I did manage to save receipts to track spending, I definitely didn’t write anything down and actually balance my checkbook. I could blame it on forgetting my pen at home and not having one in my purse, but…
  • This Week’s Goal: Actually balance checkbook. Talk to manager at second job about keeping consistent hours.

For the first week, not a bad start! I really like the routine I got going, even though it has me going nonstop Monday through Friday, making it hard to squeeze in anything else. I loved that I was able to jump over some mental hurdles (making it the gym, writing words on the page again) and prove to myself that all of these goals–even the ones I fell short completing last week–are all very, very possible and achievable. It’s simply a quest to get there.

And I’m stoked to be adventuring.

Onward to Week Two!