Rebel Yell

Every time I relapse on my health and fitness I learn something about myself. Every time I try again I lose and keep a little more off. The journey, and my desire to find compromise between loving myself and changing myself, is emotional at best and I am on fire to succeed.

To the casual observer it may look like I’m on again, off again. Every idea I have may seem like another scheme that will not work. To me it is as if I must climb the tallest and most daunting of mountains. I make progress and sometimes I slip back a little. I try again and I hope I don’t make the same mistake because I learned what made me slip last time. To me it’s slow, it’s agonizing, and I feel as if I have sweat out and cried out every single one of these pounds. Every one of them takes everything I have because it’s hard, but it proves I’m human. If I am simply an animal I would just succumb to my base urges. In this toxic environment I would surely eat myself to death, as I have seen many others do. My primate brain wants fat and sugar and salt and it wants it all the time. My humanity allows me to decide to not give in to my desires and do what is best for me. That is why I will eventually succeed.

But I was born starving. Starving for food. Starving for love. Starving for joy. That primate feels it and she wants and she screams so loud that sometimes I can hear nothing else. If I don’t eat enough, if I don’t love enough, if I train too much she screams and I lose my footing while I just shut her up. While I try to find a little temporary peace.

So please forgive my setbacks, my renewed efforts, while I try to be a better me. I have to learn to live with the animal inside me. I have to learn how to keep her quiet or how to ignore her when she bellows about needs. She doesn’t understand that it’s a slow road to fulfill them.


It’s a good thing that I am human after all…