I also asked my friends for a list of their favorite action heroine films. I keep the "Kill Bill" and "Charlie's Angels" movies and anything with Angelina Jolie on heavy rotation.
When my trainer pushes me, I channel my best Linda Hamilton in "Terminator 2" impression. Complete with sound effects.
3. "Begin at the beginning." Take it one day at a time. There are six smiley face stickers on the Self Challenge calendar (in this month's magazine) posted above my desk. tommorrow there will be seven. I can't even tell you the joy this gives me.
>b>Day 39: The Enemy Within
Shock and awe does not work. Quick and speedy victory is not possible. And despite our intention to smoke out our cellulite where it hides, there will always be more.
Unless we address the source.
The past ten days have been bad. Real bad. Sure ,I've gotten in a few good workouts, but my eating has been all over the map. As have my emotions.
It's as if I've been under siege by some deep, repressed desire to sabotage my own success. Just as I (and my friends, family and coworkers) started to see noticeable results, I found myself almost involuntarily reverting to old habits. Skipping meals and then bingeing on sweets; convincing myself that I don't have time to hit the gym (though I do, apparently, have time to watch some weird dude with a faux-hawk screech something incoherent on "American Idol"); catching the train instead of walking or biking to work on the off chance that I'll spot this cute post-doc I'm crushing on... you get the idea.
But this morning, after a few days of beating myself up about this (and then soothing the hurt with a large mocha with extra syrup and whip cream) -- I've had an epiphany.
This is that moment. In action films/epics/mythic lore. When the heroine, a few steps away from victory, is locked up inside the Death Star. And must redouble her efforts, her strength, her faith, her store of healthy, unsaturated fats...
This is the threshhold guardian moment. When, in order to cross the gateway into a new world, the heroine must first overcome a major smackdown, thus reaffirming her conviction and desire. Allowing her to finally win a lasting victory -- which ideally includes thighs that no longer rub together ("help me Obi-Wan, you're my only hope!").
So I'm back. This time, I'm gonna take it one day at a time (I bought smiley-face stickers to mark the calendar for good days, 15 equals a spa pedicure, 30 a massage, and so on).
That's my story and I'm sticking to it.
Day 32: Wherein Our Heroine Declares Victory...
...Over Girl Scout cookies, office birthday celebrations, the Chinese food joint around the corner and other evil ruses employed by the global conspiracy to get between me and my (size 8) Calvins.
OK, truth be told, I ate 7 Samoas last week. And I have to tell you, that whole "nothing tastes as good as being thin feels" thing? Not entirely true. Those puppies were pretty durn tasty!
Still. I gave away the rest of the box, and dutifully confessed to my trainer (who made me PAY), and heading into month two, I am down a full inch off my (formidable) thighs and two inches off my waist!
I AM the Dread Pirate Roberts. Woot Woot!