Oh my weeping ankles..

I’ve been walking because I keep telling myself I have to. Or, sometimes I just get going before I think about it. Or, sometimes I dare myself to, or bribe myself, whatever works, as long as we work it. (I am sorry) I am so out of shape, I can’t even say I’m round. I have the body of a god, if that god resembles a cottage cheese collection magnificently presented in stacks of ziplock bags that resemble a 40 year old woman.

But, I’ve also promised myself if I can’t, walking for even 10 minutes is better than no minutes. Anything worth doing is worth fucking doing – stop with that well shit. Literally anything is always more than nothing, so just do some if you can’t do all. Who gives a shit, right? I’m tired of this perfectionist shit where I can convince myself it’s better to not try because I suck. It’s so patently obvious that hobbling around whining about my ankles is better than sitting around whining about my fat ass. Writing terribly is far superior than thinking or talking about writing whilst not! Even if I did a post where I just wrote poop 50 times, it’s 💯 more than not posting!!!

And when bars can be so low, I can meet myself where I’m at and compete with myself on a day to day basis in a meaningful way. Who gives a shit what somebody way healthier than me is doing? I can’t really worry about Athletic Greens when I can’t stop eating Diabetic unnatural colors, ya know? Like Jesus Christ, oatmeal is better than a donut, progress is progress, start where you are, and every other cliche.

I have no number goal because a goal serves to get me defeated and hyper focusing on big things instead of little. My scale has no batteries, and I keep forgetting to buy batteries, so I have no idea how much I actually weigh, but the answer is too much. Prolly the heaviest I’ve been since 2006. But, hey, I lost like 70lbs then and kept it off til I generally began eating my emotions and stopped moving again. I’ve also gained and lost a shit ton of weight with all of the eating disorders, so I don’t want to play these stupid games anymore. Of all my problems, this one is the low hanging fruit, so…(eat some fruit?)

So, I have been walking, and I keep going further than I did the day before and add inclines as much as I can. I live in Northern Nevada, so everywhere is either uphill or downhill basically. My Fitbit is also not working, so I have no idea the miles or elevations but I’m gonna guess close to 5 miles today and 3 bigass hills, one of which I added accidentally and made my route unexpectedly at least another mile. But it doesn’t matter, because the answer can just be I did it today, I went further than yesterday, or I did more than I did another day where I didn’t.

And I feel it. I stretched for prolly twenty mins when I got home and my ankles are just… so unhappy. I groan when I climb a single stair, and thank all the gods I live in a rancher, so I only have single steps. My ankles sound like a rock tumbler full of my bones. That’s so gothic. But either way, my fucking ankles and knees hurt because they’re carrying multiple sacks of sugar worth of excess weight. My body hurts because I haven’t been moving or eating anything besides prepackaged diabetes. If I’m already in pain, why not pick the pain that feels better, eh?

I get how fucking hard it is to start, and how easy it is to stop. It only takes 3 weeks to build a habit. I am undoing many years of bad ones, but in 3 weeks, I can have something new. Maybe something new that takes up space where the old shit is hanging out. My only solution really has been don’t think about it as much as I can or play games with myself. Like, I even kind of lie to myself that I can turn around at certain spots and then I just keep going. All my bitching and pain, but I really do so much more than I think I can. Our brains whine so much more than reality.

But there’s something that feels so fucking good when your body hurts bc you were doing good shit versus the shit making you miserable. I feel more in control of myself, like I’m starting to act in my own best interest again. That’s where it’s gotta be. If any of us cannot trust ourselves to act in our own best interests, who the fuck will??? That’s how this shit happens.

I gotta be honest, I am so fucking scared. Until turning 40, I’ve generally treated myself like a rental car. Now, it’s like… maybe I should conduct proper maintenance, treat myself like a Maserati, not a kid in my mom’s minivan. I am really scared of being old and a burden on my kids. Or, even worse…omg – I’m so fucking terrified of hospitals, after all my stints, I can’t handle the thought I could be setting myself up for so much bullshit. I don’t like going to doctors. I don’t like medicines, I especially don’t like med cocktails. I am way more scared of getting old than dying, and I think that’s weird. Like, if I’m going to let so much fear control so much of my life, why not pick the helpful fear? The one that’s probably accurate for a middle aged, morbidly obese smoker, pothead, with shit tons of medical history in the genes PLUS all the brain shit. And now saying that brain shit may make you more likely to have dementia, and taking care of your brain shit can help prevent dementia….

And yet, my actions were towards all the shit I don’t want and making my fears reality. My thoughts and words were not aligning with my actions. It’s an abusive relationship with myself. How the hell does that even happen? I’ll tell ya: one friggin choice at a time.

I don’t know how to solve all my problems but it’s really no different solving them or creating them. It’s just choosing and choosing and choosing. There is really no difference in choosing to walk or choosing to sit. There’s no big picture to even be concerned with, it’s just doing what I can right now. Setting future me up for success or failure, based on infinite, tiny choices.

Our brains makes it seem like a lot of things, but it is simply not true. For so long, it had me convinced I couldn’t do all the shit I am doing just fine. I am (literally) walking out of an abusive relationship with my brain, and I’ve never enjoyed feeling so much pain. I really was convinced I deserved no better than misery, and yet…I’m hurting just the same walking or sitting, but I’m here feeling and dealing. It IS so much better than being numb!

No big picture, no big anything. Just whatever I can do, and then a bit more than I think I can. See where that goes. It HAS to get me closer to where I wanna be. How can it not?

And here’s a buncha quotes that made me smile, hopefully I can help you smile and maybe even feel some motivation if you need it. Thanks for stopping by!

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