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I have two problems. Well, actually I have several, but the two most pressing are currently food and exercise. I love the former too much, the latter not one whit. And as you may remember, I gave up smoking in January for the sake of my teeth. This unholy trinity has caused me to be currently carrying around more excess weight than ever before in my life. For many reasons, not least how unhealthy I feel, this has got to go. If all goes to plan, it will likely take nearly a year of almost constant decision-making to lose the forty extra pounds I am carrying. I say decision-making because I finally realised last night, and finally seem to have internalized (which is the tricky bit, and always takes longer than I could ever imagine) that it’s not about choices. Choices happen in my lizard brain, and will always be the immediate pleasure over anything else. Decisions happen up at the front, and are usually a lot more sensible. And I can’t just make one decision and have done with it. Oh, no. Sometimes, higher brain has to fight to be heard over the clamour of the lizard, and I have to decide, second by second, not to put that parcel of sugar and fat (or whatever) into my mouth. I have to decide, second by painful, boring second, to continue on the crosstrainer or the rowing machine.
If I’m going to do this, though, it will as always come down to a simple understanding between me, myself, and I. Nothing so tangible as a decision, contract or agreement – that would be too much pressure, and I am so bad at this that the pressure would crush my intentions. And no amount of talking about it will get it done, therefore I will be trying very hard not to talk about it, either. It needs getting on with, not talking about.
Here is my line in the sand:

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