This has been a rough week for me, mentally.  I’m doing an 8-week transition diet program, trying to get back to eating healthy and working out.  This was the second week, and the focus was on drinking more water and cutting out junk–whatever I defined as junk.  I was also supposed to keep track of my cravings.

So, naturally, I craved everything.  Fat.  Sugar.  Fried food.  And I had absolutely no willpower to speak of.  On top of that, my hectic schedule had me completely exhausted, so I only did one actual workout this week (although I did log almost 25 miles at work).  In short, this week was a bust, health-wise.

I ended up angry at myself.  Disappointed.  Feeling like a failure.  I want to be healthy.  I want to lose weight.  I want to be strong.  I want to be fit.  So why do I keep sabotaging myself?  Why?  It just doesn’t make sense.

Then, yesterday, I went to church.  The message was over the lame man at the pool, and how Jesus asked him “Do you want to be healed?”  The man did not say “Yes!” like we’d expect.  Instead, he told Jesus, “I have no one to put me in the water.”  He made excuses.  Instead of leaping at the chance of a lifetime, he made an excuse.  And Jesus told him “Pick up your blanket and walk.”  Jesus asked the man if he wanted to be healed.  The man made an excuse.  And Jesus told him to get up off his butt and do something.

That really hit me hard.  I want to be healthy, but I keep making excuses.  Lots of excuses.  I’m hungry.  I’m tired.  My schedule sucks.  I have homework.  I’m on my feet for 12-15 hours at work.  Blah blah blah.  Lots of excuses, no doing.  And I’m tired of it.  A new, healthy body and lifestyle are not going to just be handed to me on a silver platter.  If I want it, I’ll have to work for it.  I’ll have to get up off my butt and put some effort out.

So, the question is, do I want it?  And instead of making excuses, I answer “YES!”

But being determined and ready for a change isn’t enough. I need to know why I keep making these excuses, keep putting making changes off. And in the middle of that sermon yesterday, I realized why: I’m afraid. Afraid of failure. Afraid of rejection. Afraid of not being able to reach my goals.

There is comfort in food. There is safety in not taking risks. If you never try, there is no chance of failing. And I’m tired of it. I’m ready to take risks in my life. I’m ready to risk failing. I’m ready to risk rejection. I’m ready to be fearless.

With that end in mind, I spent a big chunk of today prepping food for the week. Healthy, yummy, made-from-scratch food. Homemade bread. Overnight oats. Roasted veggies and black beans. Cilantro-lime rice. Greek Quinoa Salad. Pistachio-and-coconut-stuffed dates. Salads-in-a-jar. (The recipes for all of these but the bread are courtesy of the amazing Cassie at Back to Her Roots).

I’m done with being unhealthy. I’m done with being afraid. I’m ready to take up my bed and walk.