I remember, LONG AGO, when my main interest in life (other than Jesus, of course) was health. I remember loving my college courses, loving my major - Fitness/Wellness Management - pre-physical therapy.
I remember not WANTING french fries simply because I knew they were bad for me.
I had SUCH self control.
Funny thing is, it's still one of my main interests. I still read books no one else wants to read, subscribe to magazines about health and wellness, give advice to others and drink skim milk.
And yet, here I am. 20 pounds staring at me that didn't used to be here.
And I have to talk myself into exercising, even though I know it will make me feel better.
Now my bodily organs are telling me it's time to renew my interest. Specifically my gallbladder. What a gross name for an organ.
I think if I'm going to regain this former love I need to rename my exercise machine. I call it "The Machine". Sounds fun, huh?
Maybe - "Fit into your pre-baby Clothes Machine"
"Avoid gallbladder surgery Machine"
I love to exercise, really. The problem is when I take a break for a while (I broke my toe three weeks ago. PROBABLY could have started again two weeks ago....) I just don't want to go back. I see the beauty of laziness. Coffee in the chair with a good book.
But then I look down from that coffee and see the belly staring up at me that used to be a little more flat.
Maybe alot more flat.
And my gallbladder speaks to me "Come on, you WANT to keep me. You like me, I do good things for you. All you have to do is change a few things and we can still be friends...."
Do I listen? Or do I slap that punk in the face and tell him he's no friend of mine?
Time will tell.