I was doing a good job of exercising for a while. I could say "No" to more food than I needed for a while. I was creating new habits that were helping me feel like a person outside of wife and mother. I was feeling pretty good.
I had a little book. I felt sorta guilty for buying this little book meant to encourage me to exercise and to make a record of forming the habit. I was keeping the journal. I was being faithful and I was feeling better about the number on the scale and the way my clothes fit.
Then I put the little book, half-finished, in a drawer. It was taunting me through a two-week coughing fit. I didn't pull it back out. All the progress I had made halted and started regressing. And all the encouragement that was leading to self-control and faithfulness was gone.
Today, I have exercise on my to-do list like I have for the past three weeks, or so. Hopefully I will get it crossed off. I've pulled the little book out because even if it is just to me, I need the accountability that comes from acknowledging what actually happens.
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