Comedy
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Until one is committed, there is hesitancy, the chance to draw back, always ineffectiveness. Concerning all acts of initiative (and creation), there is one elementary truth the ignorance of which kills countless ideas and splendid plans: that the moment one definitely commits oneself, the providence moves too. A whole stream of events issues from the decision, raising in one's favor all manner of unforeseen incidents, meetings and material assistance, which no man could have dreamt would have come his way. ...
Whatever you can do or dream you can, begin it.
Boldness has genius, power and magic in it!
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I joined SparkPeople in January 2006, all full of my starry-eyed, New Year's resolution clean-slatedness and determination, and promptly forgot all about it.
In September, I stumbled across SparkPeople again. "Oh, yeah, I remember this," I thought. I chuckled over the goals I had set in January, remembering how fresh and full of potential the New Year had seemed, back then. I stepped on the scales. Wow. I weighed just about the same thing I had nine months earlier. (I know that sounds good to you if you're caring for a newborn and working on losing the "baby weight," but I'm 43 and my "baby" is ten years old.) I browsed through some of the other members' pages and saw their "before" and "after" shots. Some of them used virtual proxies built through retail clothing sites, but even those are surprisingly accurate. (I can just see all those virtual models getting together in cyberspace: “Don't you think she could've had the decency to dress me in something other than my undies before posting that for all the world to see?” People for the Ethical Treatment of Virtual Models requires that you post a photo of yourself, dressed only in a bathing suit – it's a much more potent motivator.) Anyway, it hit me like a ton of bricks: If I'd done what I'd said I was going to do, back in January, I'd be at my goal weight now. Instead, I'm right where I was...in January. Nothing has changed.
I asked myself right then and there: Self, do you want to be right where you are now, next year, on your birthday? That was about seven months away. A quick mental calculation told me that was a reasonable length of time in which to meet my weight loss and fitness goals at a safe one- to two-pound a week rate. Oh, sure – I want to be fat and sassy this time next year. Why not? Especially when it comes time to go to J.J.'s company picnic and show it all off in a new swimsuit...
The answer, of course, was "No, I want to be thin and sexy before I buy a new swimsuit, and I'll be darned if my husband's coworkers see me looking like that again, next summer!" If not now, when? I knew I could do it. Somehow, I knew without a doubt that I could reach all the goals I'd set for myself. "The journey of 1000 miles begins with a single step," Confucious said.
"Just put one foot in front of the other, and keep moving," my mother often said.
Okay, starry-eyed Self, I muttered. Where'd I put those "resolutions" for 2006? Oh, crap...I posted them in public?
I smacked myself, hard. Then I opened up a browser window and Googled myself. Sure enough, there they were, in my 2005 NaNoWriMo blog. (Don't ask me why I keep doing that to myself.) I'd laid everything out with clear intent and specificity, hadn't I? I'd even figured out all the steps necessary to get there. No getting out of this - I'd been careful not to build in loopholes. Damn the legal training...
Anyway, the weight loss was easy, once I stuck that foot out there in front of me and started to move. A few months later - December 2006 - I was thirty pounds lighter. I reviewed the goals I'd set and checked each one off the list with pride. I got to the end of the list...
Quit smoking.
Oh, no I hadn't... yep. I looked at the list again. I had. Why? I whined (in my head). I was doing so well; now, a year later, I didn't even want to quit smoking. But suddenly, I wanted very much to do everything I'd vowed to do at the end of 2005. I'd said I would, I'd said it in public, and by G-d, I would. I took a deep breath. I set my quit date to...December 29. That'd get me through the holiday stress, I reasoned. And I won't have to think about it for another three weeks. Yeah, there was that. Unfortunately, I ran across this post on commitment. It opened with the following quotations:
Until one is committed, there is hesitancy, the chance to draw back, always ineffectiveness. Concerning all acts of initiative (and creation), there is one elementary truth the ignorance of which kills countless ideas and splendid plans: that the moment one definitely commits oneself, the providence moves too. A whole stream of events issues from the decision, raising in one's favor all manner of unforeseen incidents, meetings and material assistance, which no man could have dreamt would have come his way. ...
Whatever you can do or dream you can, begin it.
Boldness has genius, power and magic in it!
In reading that, I realized that (a) I wasn't truly committed to quitting, if putting off the quit date - giving myself a chance to "draw back" - gave me such guilty pleasure; and (b) without commitment, I was doomed to fail. Might as well just admit defeat. Doooooooomed, I tell you...
Oh, puleeeeeeease.
See, that's actually one of my biggest fears. I'll quit, but I'll start again. I'll lose the weight, but gain it all back - and then some. So that's just not going to happen. And in determining that I would not fail - no way in Hell - I found the substitute for the rebellion factor that's kept me lighting up over the past three decades. I was really tempted not to mention quitting in public. I was downright sneaky about the whole thing for the first few days. In fact, I only wrote about it in my blog (thus proving that very few people read the darned thing) - it was eleven days before my husband noticed I'd quit, and two full weeks before my father-in-law figured it out. The kids caught on after about four days.
I did enlist and receive the most wonderful support from my Sparkly "March Moms" (a group of moms and dads with kids my son's age - we've been together on an Internet mailing list for almost twelve years, now, since learning we were pregnant and due in March 1996). One of them took me on a virtual tour of the world - on non-smoking flights to destinations like a gorgeous under-the-sea restaurant or the ICEHOTEL, where smoking would be impossible or disgustingly inappropriate. They quietly congratulated me each day I stayed quit, without once making me feel they'd think less of me or lecture me or preach to me if I didn't. They knew it was that "f*** you!" cig that was the biggest challenge of all to give up - and never once triggered the impulse. I love my March Moms. I love my family, too, but I can't quit smoking for someone else - that whole "If you loved me, you'd..." tactic never worked on me. Mom made very sure of that, before she let me go out on my first date. I'm sure she had no idea I'd use my inner strength of will as an excuse to hang onto bad habits, but I doubt she'd have weakened my resolve to make quitting smoking easier, in any case.
As of January 1, my quit stats look like this:
Your Quit Date is: Friday, December 08, 2006 at 2:00:00 PM
Time Smoke-Free: 23 days, 17 hours, 47 minutes and 28 seconds
Cigarettes NOT smoked: 404
Lifetime Saved: 3 days, 2 hours
Money Saved: 79 dollars and 56 cents
79 dollars and 56 cents, huh? I realize that "virtue is its own reward," but I think I need a nice new pair of earrings and a pedicure. Besides, if I start saving money now, I really will have no vices left! |
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Yeah. I had this same problem. You want my recipe for chocolate lava cake? Email me. I'm not going to enable anyone who's really trying to kick the chocolate habit.
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What is your funniest memory from 2006?
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Chicken:
Let's start a restaurant!
Pig:
What would we call it?
Chicken:
Ham n' Eggs!
Pig:
No thanks. I'd be committed, but you'd only be involved!
http://www.implementingscrum.com/cartoons/implementingscrum-20060911.html
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Write a funny story about "committment" or about someone who is determined to see their New Year's resolutions through - maybe it's a year-long series of (mis)adventures, or an eleventh-hour realization that time is running out. Send me a link (see that little feedback box down there?) and if it's entertaining, I'll put it in an upcoming issue of the Newsletter.
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Questions? Comments? We editors live for your feedback. Plus, you'll get your 15 minutes of fame when we publish it.
Happy New Year! |
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