Time to Begin Again. Again.

Once upon a time, about three or four years ago, I wasn't happy with how I looked or how I felt.

So, I started getting serious about working out and I paid closer attention to what – and how much – I was eating. I started eating less, tried to eat better, and exercised more.

Little by little, like the proverbial frog being boiled alive (which is to say, without noticing it) I started losing weight and changing my life.

When life threw stress in my way, as life always does, I ran more, lifted more and ate less of the crappy foods that made me feel crappy.

Then one day I realized my knees didn't hurt, my hips didn't hurt, I was having fun doing things I never thought I'd do, going places I'd never gone, I had dropped two (sometimes three) clothing sizes, I had written more consistently than I had for a long time, and I had finished writing a novel like I had always dreamed of doing.

It wasn't easy. There had been good days and better days, bad days and badder days. But I was happy with how I looked and felt.

Unfortunately, like that boiling frog, I still wasn't pay attention.

I grew complacent.

And the wheels fell off.

That's not true.

I ripped the wheels off, built a bonfire, roasted marshmallows on the bonfire and made s'mores.

When life threw stress in my way, as life always does, I stumbled. When injuries – unrelated to my workouts – made me change the way I exercised, I grew depressed by the things I couldn't do, instead of focusing on the things I could do. When the pain kept me awake, I fretted over not being able to sleep, ensuring I couldn't sleep. When I was too tired or achy to go places and do things, I sat at home and felt sorry for myself.

Then one day I realized I was depressed.

Because I was depressed, I deserved a cookie instead of an apple. Since it hurt to walk, I deserved to sit and binge watch TV. Since I couldn't sleep, I didn't have get up for that early morning workout.

So what if my clothes didn't fit as well as they used to? So what if I didn't have the energy I used to? That extra slice of pizza made me feel better. That brownie, those chips, that ice cream, that pudding with whipped cream, that candy bar, that doughnut, that soda . . . .

I had good days when I felt like I had almost pulled myself out of the quicksand. I had bad days when I realized I was no closer to the top of the dark well I was trapped in than when I started. All those little set backs and disappointments, all those tiny little insignificant, first-world, non-life threatening problems were boiling me alive.

I don't have the energy I used to. My clothes don't fit the way they used to. I'm not happy with the way I look or the way I feel, or what I've accomplished. (But let's face it, I'm mostly upset about the clothes thing. Damn it. I have a whole closet full of cute clothes I can't wear without looking like an overstuffed in all the wrong places sausage. And I'm too cheap to buy a whole new wardrobe. And cute shoes can only carry me so far.)

It's time to start over.

Again.

Let's do this.

Today I'm starting a new program at my gym – https://www.gritgym.com/ – because I realized I need a little extra help when it comes to making good food choices, setting fitness goals, and finding better ways to deal with stress.

Because this frog just realized the water's getting a might hot.

(And those new leopard-print shoes would be totes adorbs with that little black dress.)