on choosing to do good. and be better.

i can't remember what first made me want to lose weight. i wish i did, mostly so i could ask whatever it was, what took you so damn long?  i started the summer i was 21. i walked every night. five miles, around the perimeter of my town. i waited until it was dark and i wore all black.  

i beat the pavement with my sneakers. i wanted something else to hurt as much as i did. i walked with so much anger i could feel it sitting on my chest. it got comfortable and settled in there. some of it remains. the weight melted off in the first few months. i don't know how much: i just wanted it gone so i walked until i was drenched in sweat and my body ached. this was intentional. 

i thought of this yesterday morning when i went for a run. i ate some cheerios and a banana and went outside. i walked again, but not the way i did six years ago. i ran. i walked. i ran. i ran some more. i did this for 35 minutes. my gym was closed most of last week for renovations. not having it as an option made me anxious. and annoyed. it's back now, and my anxiety has decreased. the gym is a comfort to me.

but i thought of the girl i was six years ago and i thought of how much has changed. and how some things haven't. and that is a choice.

i went to church after running. the priest talked about choices: how everyone has the ability to choose, to do good and be good. 

every single thing we do is a choice. we are responsible for all of them.  

this week i'm choosing to do more: more running, more sleeping, more walking through the city after work.  and less. less worrying, less complaining, less fear.

more fun, less fear. i promised this to myself here. and here. we deserve to keep the promises we make to ourselves. i'm setting the tone for the week with this promise to myself: you're getting there, rhi. remember that. all of the answers you're looking for will not appear at one time. you'll get there.

choose to believe this.