Then I lost that precious gift of motivation. What used to come naturally is now forced, often dreaded. And I can't afford to let go of that inner athlete. I need to tap into that mojo and make use of it...but how?
A friend of mine who just turned 40 had a heart attack this week. She is more athletic than I am, meaning she actually follows through with her exercise goals. This doesn't bode well for me. I need to get off my butt, stop making excuses and start acting like the athlete I know I am.
Although I have been doing Pilates twice a week and walking on the treadmill every day, I know this is not enough. So many excuses come to mind to block me from doing what I used to do as easily as breathing; but I want to live to watch my children grow into adulthood, to see my grandchildren and to travel to all of those remote places on the earth I have scribbled on my life to-do list.
How do I bring that athletic version of myself back out into the world? She's been buried a long time. I know she's still there, sculpted, energetic and healthy as hell. Tapping into that inner me is probably not as difficult as I am making it out to be. It's a a matter of desire overcoming procrastination. What do I want more? Do I want to die young because I watched that television show on the DVR? Or do I want to hike up Machu Pichu in Peru and then swing over to Argentina to dance the tango?
Hmm...I choose the tango. Time to say hello to that inner athlete of my youth. I have a feeling she'll say, "it's about damn time".