Can we talk about Momentum?
I have a love/hate relationship with Momentum. Momentum is like my high school boyfriend who seemed more important than eating or sleeping, until we broke up and he started dating that blonde and then he was the reason all I wanted to do was eat and sleep. Momentum is the Nicole Richie to my Paris Hilton; my best friend and closest confidant until she invited me over and showed my sex tape in front of all of our friends.
A couple of months ago I had forward Momentum. It was glorious. I was writing 2,000 words a day. I was running 4 miles every other day. I had lost 5 pounds. Momentum was on my side. Every time I considered sitting on the couch under a soft blanket drinking wine, eating mint chocolate chip ice cream and watching The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills, Momentum was there to whisper in my ear, “You did it yesterday. You can do it today. It’s not that hard.”
Because that’s the thing: if I did it yesterday, I can do it today. And I had. I’d done it again and again, so I knew I could do it tomorrow. Momentum stood behind me and pushed me forward. She helped me succeed.
But then I took a break from writing after NaNoWriMo ended to get through the holidays. And I took a break from the diet to go on the anniversary vacation. And I’ve taken a week long break from running to rest a sore knee. They were all legitimate reasons for breaks. I didn’t just give up because I wanted to watch trashy TV at night or because a Whopper and medium fries really sounded delicious, but I might as well have. I paused in my climb up the mountain and as soon as I did, that bitch, Momentum, turned and slapped me backwards. I tripped behind myself and rolled, just like Jill, tumbling after.
Last Monday was Back-to-Business Day. I should have written 1,000 words and eaten only greek yogurt, salads and almonds. I was busy getting back on top of the rest of life, though, and because it didn’t seem to matter if I did it that day or the next and it all seemed too challenging I wrote 0 words and threw myself a carb party for lunch. Momentum was against me.
Every day last week it got easier and easier to fail at my goals. “You failed yesterday; what does it really matter if you fail again today?” Momentum whispered evilly in my ear. I caught up on TV. I ate too many carbs and drank too much wine. I slept 9 hours every night.
Today I’m here to declare war on Momentum and her mind games. I can do it, regardless of yesterday. I’ve proven I can do it. Yesterday is gone and dead; whether I’ve failed or succeeded. Today is all that matters. Today I will eat better. Today I will write 1,000 words. Tomorrow I will run again even though I’m terrified of what that will feel like after a week off. I vow to listen to Momentum only when it benefits me and to block her out when she wants to do nothing but drown me.
You never really cared about me. We have a toxic relationship. You’re an enabler. So I’m dumping you.
I feel better already.