Brains are jerks

Weight loss is a tricky thing.  If it were only about calories in vs. calories out, everyone could do it--easy peasy.  There wouldn't be a gazillion and a half blogs out there dedicated to this very subject, written by people who fight and scratch and claw week after week just to see the smallest change on their bathroom scales.  When we come across someone for whom it DOES seem to be easy, we are fascinated by that person.  Inspired by him.  Motivated.  For a few brief moments as we read his story, we become determined that his story will be OUR story.  We wake up the next morning, overflowing with a newly-charged desire to wipe out months, years, or even a lifetime (in my case) of really crappy habits.

Then ... life happens.

Stress. Temptation. Holidays. Birthdays. Vacations. Emotions.  We reach for food for entertainment.  For comfort.  For nourishment.  For socializing.  For pleasure.

Weight loss, for the 99% of us, is about so much more than calories.  Of course, at the end of the day, it's the math that really matters.  Burn more than you consume.  But there's this pesky, annoying organ resting atop each of our shoulders known as our brains that likes to mess with our efforts.  It tells us we've failed more than we've ever succeeded, so we may as well accept our lot.  It tells us we're tired and stressed and we deserve to veg on the couch and gnaw on a piece--or four--of cold fried chicken.  It stores every insult that was ever hurled our way, every homecoming dance we didn't get asked to, every biggest size on the rack that still didn't fit.  Brains are big, fat, mean jerks.

Stupid brains.

My brain is no exception.  It's a bully.  But bullies are only as strong as their victims allow them to be.  I've been a wimp.  My brain's been pushing me around a lot, for many years.   It's my fear of having to confront my brain that has kept me from writing in this blog and doing what I KNOW I need to do in order to change my body and my health.   I know what's swirling around in my crazy noggin.  I just don't want to deal with it.

But I need to.  When I started this blog, I did it mainly for the accountability, but also for the therapeutic value.   For a while, when I was consistent, it worked.  I had success and saw results that I felt good about.  Then I got busy and failed to check in here regularly.  No therapy, no accountability.  I slipped.  When I slip, I have a pattern of going on the hunt for the next great fat cure.  Despite knowing what works, I start looking for a gym, a group, a book, a trainer, a blog, a diet that will be my magic bullet.  It's my way of avoiding the big, mean bully who's waiting around the corner to pants me and shove me into a locker. 

Stupid brain.

I'm back on the blog now because it works.  It combines the two things I need most for my own good: therapy and accountability.  I wish it were as easy peasy for me as ONLY counting calories.  It just isn't. I have to fight the food battle AND take down a bully.