Losing my Mojo

There was a moment, not too long ago (although it's getting further and further in my hindsight), when I was a badass*. I trained for- and ran- a half marathon. I lost 40lbs. in the process. I surprised myself- who is this girl? I mean, I am a quitter. Soccer? Voice lessons? Roller-skating? Sewing? Quit 'em all. Somehow, this time, I managed to keep running.

And then- just like that- I stopped. Life has been stressful lately, for reasons that deserve their own post. I went back to all of those places that were warm and fuzzy to me- Café Rio, Chick-fil-a, Snow Shack, the list continues I remembered how much I love reality TV. I dug down really deep, and mustered all of the excuses I could come up with to NOT move. IT's hot. I'm sooo tired. I didn't have a very good lunch. I guess I didn't really dig too far.

It's been a while now, and it's starting to bother me. I liked that other girl. I enjoyed the energy, and the happiness that she brought. I liked being a badass*. And, I think I finally get it.

I've lost my mojo.

But when the inner me- the fat girl in me- the lazy quitter- when all she wants is to eat Oreos, watch Obese and Expecting on TV, and put that evening agenda on repeat, how do I beat her?

I'm not really looking for answers, just needing this space to be a venting corner for me. It's my own little corner of the vast internet space. And, I appreciate it so.

* I know, it's a bad word. But, it's my honest thought. And if I can't call myself a badass, then who can? I WAS A BADASS.