For many New Year's Resolutioners, today is Day 4. The evil Day 4.
After four days of cutting calories, the family resemblance between Wasa Bread and cardboard becomes painfully clear. The fridge emits a siren call, a high-pitched "open me" that only dieters can hear. The kids' gummi vitamins start to look tasty. For that matter, so does toothpaste. (mmm, mint frosting!)
The second-day sores are in full swing. The new exercise program we were so excited about on January 1 reveals muscles we haven't used since 5th grade, when climbing on the play structure was still cool. We contemplate installing handicap bars to hoist ourselves off the toilet. (Down is painful enough, but at least we can count on gravity to do most of the work.) Our husbands laugh as we contort ourselves to latch our bra straps without raising our arms. Our cats, sensing weakness, jump on sore quads with more than the usual amount of force.
Good habits have yet to settle into place. The old habits reach out to embrace us, the mental equivalent of a favorite pair of baggy sweats we slip into on weekends. Rationalizations slip just as comfortably off the tongue. I wouldn't want to take it too fast. It's a lifestyle change, not a diet. I have time. One cheat day won't hurt. I deserve it.
Don't believe that little voice. What you deserve, what you owe to yourself, is to keep going. Next week will be a bit easier. The week after that will be easier still. Soon, your body will not get as sore after each workout. (Well, except squat days. I've been lifting for more than a decade, and heavy leg days still get me every time.) Soon, the toothpaste and gummi vitamins will start to look just like, well, toothpaste and vitamins.
Soon, you'll start to see changes in the mirror, in your bloodwork, in your outlook on life. Soon.
b. strong //