The Battle Royal Between Goals and Reality.

Goals are hard to achieve. Ever wonder why you never really reach your New Year's Resolutions? Because it's hard. Goals are shitty, evil bastards and, in my opinion, the more you achieve your goals the stronger you are. How do I know that sticking to goals and reaching your goals is hard? Because I've quit on a few, and never given up on others. Currently, I have two main goals: get into jaw dropping shape {keeping my fingers crossed} and maintaining a budget. We'll talk about the money first...because I'm pretty sure I can go on and on about fitness and my neurotic goals I believe I can achieve. Now to get things straight, I am by no means struggling to survive...but I am a broke college kid. Yes, I made it into summer semester, thank god. So...creating a budget was my first step. I did a pretty modest job. Mind you, it's only the second week in, but I can tell getting used to restricting my spending is going to be a pain in my ass. I'm not an excessive spender, but I'm used to being able to buy what I want, when I want it. Is that a good thing? No, but I also have not gone so far as to kill myself monetarily. I recently received my first credit card with a three hundred dollar limit, and I used it once for business attire. My credit is good, but creating a budget seemed smart seeing as the end of the month is always tight. May will be the first month that the entire month will be encompassed into the budget. Already I'm seeing where I can cut spending, and noticing the extra money I'll be able to put away for an old truck. Seems pretty sweet. But...mountain biking is an expensive habit so sticking to this budget is going to be rough. Damn you George Washington and your monetary value. And yes, I'm a strong believer of every dollar counts. I'm kind of hoping my OCD will kick in and I'll be amazing at this thing by the end of May. But reality is a bitch and she's good at tittie punching you when you think you got shit down pat. So here's for hoping that things will go smoothly. I'll let you know how it goes. Aha.
Then there's this fitness thing I keep mentioning. I have high goals, and even higher expectations. Why? Because my brain thinks it's funny to fuckk with me and my view of myself. Yayy for Rocky's brain. She is a mastermind and a cunt. Most days we get along, but other days it's an uphill battle in the snow. So my specific goals...I want to be a trainer and a nutritionist. Because I love working out and eating cleanly and healthily, but also because helping people feel good about the things they can do is beautiful. As for my own fitness goals, I want to have a six pack by July, and be able to do fifteen pull ups without stopping by August. Like I said, I have high expectations of myself. But I believe I can do it, and for the days I don't Travii Troublesome makes me work out anyway. Remember one thing, you'll never regret a work out..but you might regret eating that whole box of Cheez-its. Just saying, it's pretty much a guarantee. I've been there. I still have my bad days, and my really bad days, and then there are the days that I want to say fuckk it. And I just have to wake up the next day and remember that one day will not break me, it's not the deciding factor. As long as I keep putting on my running shoes, or my amazing yoga toe socks, or my clip in shoes I'll be okay. Getting in shape is only fun if you actually step back and look at yourself from someone else's perspective. Noticing the small changes in your body, the extra lap you weren't able to run last week. Realizing that it's not an over night venture. That in order for your body to look the way you want it, you have to work harder than you want to, longer than you may have energy for. But in the end it will be worth it. Hell, a month later it will be worth it. I can contest to that. And one of these days I'll have the balls to post some before and current pictures on this thing, just to show you what a month can do. This six pack thing, we're going to have issues. Because I'm a huge fan of good beer. That dark, creamy, mocha, sooper hoppy beer...that has a million calories in it but tastes so derishush. I'm trying to drink wine when I'm having one of those days, and for the most part, it works. Mainly because I only have one glass, compared to the three beers I would have had. I'm not a fan of wine, but sacrifices are to be had. It's going to be hard, scratch that. It's going to be one of the toughest things I've done so far, but I can't wait until I get there. Until that day, it's hard work and dedication. It'll be sweat, and sometimes tears because my body is going to hate me, but someone or something is going to make me push harder.
Until next time sweet thang, stay beautiful.