Just Do It!

"Just Do It"- the Nike slogan! It's brilliant.

Over the past year, I've adopted my own personal motto; Motivation is fleeting, choice is constant.

For me, almost every diet or attempt at weight loss came with a preconceived expectation that motivation would follow. I was convinced that once day 1 was done and dusted the realisation I was capable would precede, and with it a shot of motivation like a cattle prod to the arse, undoubtedly spurring me on to become a svelte and self-controlled vixen. It never happened. Motivation never came.

Each diet would begin with the best of intentions. I would plan my meals and activities, write words of affirmation to myself and pin them around the house. The back of the toilet door covered in A4 paper reminding me I was worthy, and no longer desired thighs that bellowed over the seat and touched the floor when I sat down to pee. I'd write goals down and tape them to the bedroom mirror. Goals such as lose weight off my face so I can save money on foundation. The kitchen cupboard doors would be lined with reminders NOT to eat unless I was genuinely hungry, and even then to not hoover the contents like a trusty Dyson.

The start of the week would begin with desires to intentionally exercise 4 times a week minimum (the usual chocolate to lips bicep curl not counting). And naturally chocolate, chips and cheese were banned and indeed evicted from the house! Sadly, by midday of day 1, I'd have driven to the local shops and stocked up on all my 'banned items', exercise was non-existent and motivation nowhere to be found.

Motivation is a funny old thing, we all desire it for various, and often unappealing, activities. I have often lamented that if I could bottle the stuff I'd be somewhere on the Caribbean, cocktail in hand, liposuction and tummy tuck behind me, breast implants in front, and a bank account brimming with mula waiting to be spent. However, at this stage the only bottled motivation (aka: amphetamines) are illegal and the real (non-drug-induced) feeling can not be bottled or sold. Regretfully more often than not it is a fleeting feeling that if not acted on almost immediately, vacates before the opportunity has been plucked, possibly never to return again.

Every day I wake hoping that today will be the day I am motivated to clean, motivated to cook, motivated to sort Jim's cupboard out, and motivated to finally take my bag of "fat clothes" to the local Salvo's. The reality unfortunately being that I wake and morph into a sea lion who wants nothing more than a lazy day on the beach and the occasional swim.

So, what can you do when motivation has taken a long vacation, or perhaps never plans to visit in the first place? Well for me, I had to realise that motivation is a state of mind. It's a choice. Every day I am capable of making choices. Every day I am in control of the choices I make. Every day I can choose to strive for the right choices.

Muscle Man, Jim, Bob and I have had a very lazy day today. Muscle Man and I slothed about on the couch watching DVD's whilst the boys had their afternoon nap. Earlier in the day we deliberately went out for brunch so someone else could make our meals, and as usual, we left the house in the state it was in last week after cyclone Jim's latest encounter. The most productive thing I'd done by 3pm was to clean the dashboard of our car with a stray (unused) nappy wipe! So, naturally when Muscle Man toyed with the idea of jogging around the lake this afternoon, I laughed. The conversation went like this:

Muscle Man: Should we jog today babe?

Me: Ha ha ha ha ha ha you're so funny......oh, you mean it?

Muscle Man: Yep, why not. We probably should, don't you think?

Me: Hmmmmm, can you jog on my behalf for me, oh and whilst your at it, can you spend 30 minutes lifting weights, complete a decent set of Ab's workout, take the washing off the line, get dinner on the go, fold the nappies in the lounge, clean the car out, change the sheets on our bed, wash and dry my hair, shave my legs......

Muscle Man: No way, you can shave your own legs! I ain't touching those plaited, hairy, sticks of yours!

Me: You think my legs look like sticks? Yahoo, awesome, love ya babe! OK, let's get ready for that jog shall we.

And off we set! Rugging the kidlets up and grabbing our iPods we set off in our now nappy wipe scented car to the local lake, all the while Muscle Man and I having numerous thoughts about heading home and returning to our self declared grooves on the couches and the services of Pizza Hut online.

40 minutes later we were again back in the car, heading home, sweat beading of our faces and the car fogging up with the combination of extreme cold and humidity we were exuding from our strong and adrenalin fuelled bodies. As we neared home, I leaned into Muscle Man and said "Yep, choice, we have it EVERY day, motivation - never".