Courage, My Love

I know I'm not the only one who has felt this way. This is the situation: I had a great couple of weeks.  I ran. I ate well. I juiced. I could feel my body slimming down. My husband noticed the change. And all was right with the world. Then, a few days of poor eating, no real exercise, a frumpy attitude, grumpy kids, bloating, a trip to Dairy Queen (or two) and I feel like I'm back where I started.

I'm battling myself right now. I don't know why, which is tough because I usually do. I usually understand why I'm sabotaging my efforts and falling off the wagon. But right now, I'm at a loss. I know we've all felt this at some point, but for some reason, it feels shameful.  It's as though I know I'm supposed to be better. I'm supposed to have a handle on this. I'm supposed to be setting an example for my kids, right? Haven't I worked through this shit already?  Didn't I just knock out a 75 pound loss last year? Didn't I say goodbye to my crappy habits, emotional eating and self-worth issues from childhood? Wasn't that me?

Well. I'm trying to be here in the moment. I'm saying my mantras. "A day doesn't make a week and a week doesn't make a month." I'm slogging back through old inspirational posts from the blog but it's not really helping. I guess this is what they (the proverbial "they) call a funk. I guess I'm in it, eh? I'm in a funk.