"Ah, but a man's reach should exceed his grasp,
Or what's a heaven for?
__ Robert Browning, Men
and Women and Other Poems
I believe that the aspiration to a better self is one thing we
are born with. And one contagious aspiration amongst the women folk revolves
around our bodies. We constantly find them in want, they are either too big,
too small, too lean, too feminine, too flabby ........... I belong to a
group of 17,000 odd ladies on a quest to attain the sort-after, all elusive
flat abs. Exercise and clean eating being the only paradigm one is allowed to
ascribe to. Fad diets are a no-no and in the event you are a fad-diet
believer, and as long as you keep it to yourself, it’s safe to say, peace
prevails.
I must say, I admire the admin of the group. Commanding order and
discipline on a social media platform 17,000 women strong, each with over
16,000 words to spew per day is no small feat! You see, it is my belief
that women have quite a myriad of in-born manufacture-defects. I think
scientists gave them a name, hormones! With each recurrent day, a good
number will be PMSing, another will have the juice on hot gossip in town, muchene
galore!!! another odd number need a new market for their wares, si
'msichana ni effort'?........ temptations to break the rules are every
turn!
The 17,000 strong group is as unique as any group of ladies
you’ll ever come across. There are the go-getters. All they need is a target,
directions and a deadline and bam! They will deliver. These are the ladies who
have achieved the flat abs and Oh! How we uuuh! and aaaah! their achievements.
I applaud these ladies because I think the first battle they won is the hardest
among rogue get-fit girls, the very strong, quite overwhelming - the
desire for the quick-fix results. I think with times comes an acquired
discipline, and the lifestyle becomes a reality. But I always wonder to self,
did they ever walk the same rough path every rouge get-fit girl walks? And what
was their experience? What unrealistic goals did they set? Did they ever wander
the fad-diet, pill-popping alley?
And then there are those that watch from the sidelines and think
to themselves, every time a success story goes up on the wall, “……I need to get
my act together!” “Next Monday, I am getting on the bandwagon….” “I could
probably start jogging in the morning……” You see, for this group, there is
never enough time within the 24 hours frame a day provides to fit in a work
out. Oh, and they do not own a sports bra, do not have proper shoes, do not own
hand weights……….. the list is endless. And I fall in this group! We are the
professional procrastinators! Lawd! We all should have been litigators because
the number of plausible reasons we will give for having not completed a task,
having not kept our new years resolutions! I know better than to argue with
myself, I never win!
About a week ago I suffered a major disappointment in personal
life. I was mostly disappointed in myself, more than the offender for the
simple reason that I made it possible for them to wrong me and hurt me the way
they did. I saw patterns in my life and especially in my relationships that
lead me to be a door mat, end up having people I love and care about take me
for granted, heck! even strangers! I was sensible enough to work out a
solution, I needed to show me an abundance of love. To invest and build up
stock on my efficacy. I needed to self appreciate me-self more. I figured the
only way to do that was by adding years, health, and positive energy to my
life. But I was sad; I felt a need to mourn, I was holding it down at the
biggest self-pity party. I couldn't bring myself to think up new fun activities
to pursue, new thoughts to occupy my brain space with, except the sadness,
replaying the pathetic scene where I got my heart ripped to pieces and handed
to me!……… for a while there, I was certain it was the best thing to do, to
mourn.
It however occurred to me that though I had communicated,
clearly, I might add, to the offender, and though they mopped about and sought
my pardon, for they knew they had wronged me, the likelihood that they were
walking around hanging their heads in sadness and shame because of their
actions was highly improbable. They were going on about their life as if
nothing happened, and here I was stuffing my face, feeling sad for myself! The
nerve of me!!!
Figured I needed to add years, health, and positive energy to my
life. I have worked out before, had gym membership for a month, and it was
the best 30 days of one November that I ever lived! I started craving the
muscle soreness that comes from working out. The refreshed feeling of a good
sweat! But the pity party was still on; I couldn't bring myself to do any home
workouts. I was still giving self very good excuses for not doing the one thing
I knew would 'fix' me.
I remembered what a trauma counselor once told me, the best way
to get it over (the trauma) it is to talk about it. Tell the story until it
stops being your story. Until you experience that out-of-body sensation, where
you’re an onlooker and not the aggrieved….. when you get here, you can rest
satisfied that you have worked your way out of the nightmare. While this was not
a life-or-death situation, I wondered at the same logic working for my
procrastination ways, getting me out of the pity-party and into a living party.
It started me on a serialized post on the group’s wall titled “From my
procrastination diaries…..” cataloging every lazy, lame excuse I gave myself
for not working out, hoping to write myself out of my sadness and self pity.
This blog and this 1st blog
post is the culmination of the wise counselor’s words of advice and my endeavor
to put said counsel into practice. Today marks my 2nd day of working out. It also marks the
start of a journey towards commitment. And the start to the divorce process
from trusty old procrastination.
Disclaimer: I should probably state that I am no writer, I am not
a literally scholar, but a girl struggling with an acquired art,
procrastination.
:-) Thank you for dropping by.
