Hello. My Name is B and I'm a Peanut Butteraholic

I recently read a fitness blog that really made me mad. Then it made me think. Then it made me empowered.  It was a well-written post about personal accountability as it relates to fitness and fitness goals.  In a nutshell, it said (and I'm paraphrasing, here), 'Stop bitching about your weight if you're not going to stop filling your pie hole with bacon double cheeseburgers!'

I don't think any of those actual words were in her post, but that was the message I got.

At first I thought, "What the hell?!  Who do you think you are, calling me out like that?!  Not all of us are super-hero-fitness-icons who can spend countless hours at the gym, little missy!!".

Of course, we don't know each other and she doesn't even know I read her blog because I happened upon it while stalking someone else's FB profile.  But I was pretty sure she was writing TO ME! 

Do you ever get that feeling that an article is written to you?  YOU!  I knew she was addressing me because I complain of every pitfall, sin, and excuse she wrote about. I bitch about working out till my legs snap off at the knees and then lament about why I can't 'seem' to lose this 10 lbs... While I shovel peanut butter in my mouth in a cool, dark, pantry.  I marvel at other people's muscles and physiques and then fail to 'find time' to work my own muscles.  It was as if she's been standing behind me, listening to me cry in my bottle of wine for years!! 

Every sentence she wrote - I queued up a solid, steadfast retort that was sure to justify my actions... Until I read the next sentence she wrote where she shot down my excuse with a more superior rebuttal. "Damn her!  I know she's wrong. Somewhere in here, somehow... She's WRONG!!  I need to step away from this and come up with a doosie!" (Is that how it's spelled?)

So I stepped away. I thought. I dissected. I came up empty-handed. I finally accepted that she was right. It was like a condensed 12-step program. I kinda felt like I needed to apologize to her or something. Isn't that one of the steps? 

She was right about consequences, owning my actions and the reactions, controlling myself, blah blah blah.

But it's sooooooo haaaaaard to doooooo!!!! (Yes, I'm whining!) 

When that peanut butter, cake, or french bread calls to me; it sings so sweetly.  It promises me salvation. The peanut butter whispers in my ear, "It's okay, baby. I'm NATURAL peanut butter. I'm not gonna hurt you."

How do I fight that?  Keep my eye on the prize?  Visualize the attained goal?  Don't buy the shit in the first place? 

Whatever. I feel more empowered as I look my sins in the eyes and 'admit I have a problem'. 

Sometimes I'm successful and walk away from the bad options.

Sometimes Satan the peanut butter, cake, and warmbutterycrunchychewy french bread wins.

So. My response?  She's right. I'm human. I'll keep trying. I'll tone down the whining (somewhat).

Interested in reading her very good blog and then feeling like you've been called out but ultimately knowing she's right?  Here's a link to it. (Hopefully, I'm allowed to link to her blog):  Pride

-B(Sting)