How I Rebel

Since I've grown up and retired, I've become quite the rebel.  Don't tell me what to do.  Don't tell me where to stand.  Don't tell me what to go along with.

I've even given over my new old-lady car to Ted and taken to driving his old Prius, because the newer Avalon has too many automatic functions.  For example, it AUTOMATICALLY SLOWS DOWN when you're in cruise control and you get too close to the car in front of you.  That's just bullish*t.  If I wanted to slow down, I'd have stepped on the brake.

I have admired this trait in myself - I'm an independent thinker, I make up my own mind.  If someone sends me a quiz with 8 questions, I only do 7.

This is not to say I don't listen to people who know more than I do about a particular subject.  For example, I listen to Tom the Trainer's instructions and follow them as best I can.  I listen to my doctors (with some skepticism, but I listen).  I listened to my EMT instructors.  I give people the benefit of the doubt, unless and until I learn that their knowledge of a particular subject is no better than my own.

Yet while this rebellion/skepticism has served me well in my life, it sometimes gets in the way of my success.

For example:  After rigidly adhering to a certain protein/carb/fat ratio for a week, I'll feel like splurging with, say, an entire bottle of wine.  I'll justify this splurge by saying I've worked hard all week and so I deserve it, when what I'm really doing is rebelling AGAINST MYSELF!  WTF!

Looking back over all the weight loss programs I've done in my life (and there are many), I see this seed of rebellion cropping up as I finished each one.  "I've been so strict for six months, enough is enough."  And you can guess where I was six months later.

I started out this morning writing about how I love Fridays because it's two days off from the gym, when I realized that while at the end of Friday's workout I do look forward to two days off, I still do my cardio every day (or make up for any day I miss before the end of the week), and I don't really mind going to the gym.    In fact, I miss it when I'm traveling.    Then I starting thinking about HAVING to do something versus WANTING to do it, and how I sometimes need to change my perspective.

The same is true with my rebellions.  Some are good.  Some, not so much.

I'm not sure my fitness regimen has become an addiction or obsession, and I'm not sure it ever will, but I know that I'm loving the results of my program.  I can remember when just biking the upper loop around my subdivision was too much for me, and I'd have to walk my bike up the steep hills - or I'd talk myself into a rebellion and walk my bike, I'm not sure now which it was.  Just the other day, Ted and I did the figure eight on our bikes, twice, for ten miles.

Is it tiring counting protein, fat and carb grams every day?  Yes.  Can it be a drag going to the gym when it's a beautiful day outside?  Sure.

Do I love being strong and fit, and becoming even more so?  Absolutely.  So there's one person who gets to tell me what to do.

And that's me.