The case of the missing Mojo!!!

30 07 2010

A week ago I announced that I lost my mojo. I’ve been feeling pretty negative in this portion of my journey. I’ve thought a lot about why, when I should be dancing naked in the streets proclaiming my admission into the Onederland club, am I constantly looking in the mirror and not liking what I’m seeing.

Fear is the answer to that why.

I’ve been doing this weight loss / move more eat less / get stronger, faster, fitter journey now for exactly 7 months and I realize there is still so much more to go. This is a life time commitment. I don’t just want to get down to 170 pounds and be done with it. I don’t want to wipe my hands clean at the destination and call it good. I don’t want to reach that goal and take a seat on the sidelines and wonder what’s next. There is fear when deciding to make a commitment to change one’s life, especially when that decision means the difference between dying a slow death surrounded by depression and obesity or standing up and fighting for something you’re not even sure is achievable.

Even today with all that I’ve accomplished, I am still fearful losing the fight.

You’d think after losing 65+ pounds with nothing but plain old determination I wouldn’t be carrying around this fear of “what if I can’t do it”, but in fact it’s stronger now that it was when I took my first flight of stairs and replaced my first diet coke with a glass of water back in December. The fear is different, yet the same. In December it was a fear of “what if the weight doesn’t come off” and now it’s “What if I can’t run faster”. Seven months ago it was “What if I’m still hungry after eating my limit of calories”, now it’s “What if I give up during my first triathlon”. Two hundred and eighty days ago it was “What if no one believes I can do it”, now it’s “everyone believes and I’m trying to believe in myself”.

Last week I said I thought I lost my mojo. What I should have said is I’m scared. But being scared doesn’t mean I sit on the sidelines. It doesn’t mean I throw my hands up and announce to the world I’m ready to give up. In fact it’s just the opposite. Now is the time to dig deep, draw lines and scream “WWOPD”. Want to know what he’d do? He’d transform into that sweet semi truck and plow right through anything even remotely looking like fear!

WWOPD!

While I can’t transform into that sweet ass ride, I can transform that fear into determination to work harder and step with more deliberation and purpose.

The fear won’t stop me.

It will only fuel my desire to succeed.

Oh and in case you’re still wondering about the mojo, a very strange thing happened today when I decided it was time to update my wardrobe as my current selection is becoming a little more baggy and a little more gangsta than I like to appear. I brought my new clothes home and as usual went about taking pictures…

The bottom pair is a size 34 in men’s. Seven months ago I was wearing a size 44 in men’s and a 24 in women’s. I noticed something sticking out of the pocket there. Bent in closer to inspect:

AWWWW YHEA BABY!!

The bottom shirt is a 17 1/2. The top button down is a 15. Again what is that sticking out of the pocket?

SHAZAM BABY!

Seven months ago I was wearing XXL t-shirts. Today I walked out of the store with only Mediums! Wait a minute? What is that? Don’t tell me, let me guess…

That’s what I thought!

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