Sliding Down Banisters

A few meetings ago Kris posted a quote on the board that I thought was really good.  "There is no elevator to success", or something close to that, anyway.  She talked about how times before she did kind of skip a few floors in her journey to a healthy weight, and that it resulted in gaining the weight back.  But that this last time she took the stairs.  And she stopped at each floor.  And that there was a lot she learned by doing it that way, compared to the idea of just getting to goal and to be done with it.  I'd have to say there were times I took the elevator too.  And although it was great to get there, I also missed some important steps when choosing to ride the elevator instead of walking up the stairs.  It's not just about the number on the scale or on the tag in my clothes.  I've been researching a lot this time.  Reading up on the latest health studies and trying to learn the healthiest way to eat and still enjoy life.  I've cut out a lot of things.  But sometimes... I WANT TO SLIDE DOWN THE BANISTER.

It looks so fun!  It's exciting and different.  And a lot easier than going up the stairs.  And sometimes when I'm sliding down the banister, I forget about all those steps I had to go up that I'm now flying right past.  But eventually, the banister ends.  And I've hit the bottom floor.  And when I turn around, I see all those steps I had already gone up once before, looming in front of me yet again.  And I can't believe I just wasted all that effort for a short-lived trip down the banister.  I'm sick at what I've lost in my little moment of reckless abandon.  And as I look at each step, I remember how hard I had to work to get as far as I had gone.  And I'm not sure I have what it takes to do it all over again.  I doubt that I'll ever reach the top.  In times past, this is where I would just give up and pitch my tent, knowing that I'll never be able to get there so why even try?  But I do have to reach the top at some point.  I can't just live on the rock bottom floor.  And even worse, I've now made it look like a nice place to be for some of my kids.  I know it's not a great place to be, and I want so much more for them. 

So, I'm going back up the stairs today.  I worry what I'll have to pay when I step on that scale tomorrow night, but there's no escaping it if I ever want to live above the cold, sad, rock bottom floor I've been living on for so much of my adult life. 

Here's a reminder to myself:  sliding down the banister isn't fun enough to keep going back up all those same stairs again more than once.