I'm now about 16 months away from fifty, and after nearly 49 years of living, I am finally figuring out the value of doing things slowly, including reaching my goals. Presently, I have a pile of clothes I'd love to wear again, I have a fitbit that is nestled into my bra that buzzes every few hours reminding me to get off my a**, and I have a hankering for popcorn that I will eat in a reasonable portion, minus the oil. (Your definition of reasonable my differ from my carbohydrate-addled version.)
Yes, I want to get fit by fifty, but, no, I don't need to do it all today. I just need to do some of it. So I'll watch the latest installment of House of Cards on Netflix while doing some exercise, I'll confront the scale the same way I'd confront a spirited horse - whoa, Nellie, it's going to be okay; we're just going to go slow here - and I'll let myself have that bowl of popcorn because I ate healthfully today, and also because I consider popcorn a health food! (Go look in the archives for my blog that proves this!)
I also don't need to get my novel finished this month or run a marathon ever. I can just take slow steps toward improving me in the way that I want to be improved. The lose-it-in-a-week detox method or the boot-camp-beat-yourself-to-a-pulp to get fit have never proven effective for me. They've just made me waddle in the opposite direction.
So I am going to slowly saunter toward health, stopping for plenty of indulgent breaks along the way. That's just the way I roll.
I'll keep you posted...