Fitness, like any other discipline, compels us to tell the truth if we really want to follow its ways. We learn at a very deep level that we do, in fact, love brownies more than bikinis, or that we love swimming more than television marathons, or that if fitness has to involve burpees, we would rather just buy bigger clothes. It cuts both ways: sometimes we find out things that help us and sometimes we want to stick our fingers in our ears and scream Green Day lyrics.
If we want to be healthy, we have to be honest about it. We have to be willing to look at the scale. We have to face the fear that we will no longer have an excuse to be weak or small or puny; then there is the deeper fear that we may not have all that much potential to live up to after all.
Decluttering, tidying, getting rid of things have become cultural themes. Let’s throw out the lies we tell ourselves, whether it is as small as “It didn’t do much damage to eat those seven cookies” or as big as “I will never be strong.” It is amazing how spacious our heads and our jeans become when we tell the truth about things.