(Day 149 / -90 lbs.) I Make Me Fantastically Uncomfortable

Once upon a time, COMFORT and HABIT carried me through the day. I never wanted to be hot or cold, hungry or stuffed; I wanted to be JUST RIGHT. Now, I'm no Goldilocks and there may be nothing wrong with being comfortably just right- only the way I went about it.

When the room was too cold, I turned up the thermostat. Too hot and down it went. When I was hungry I ate, probably a little too much. When I was over-stuffed I would try to counteract the symptoms with Pepto-bismol or (how do you spell relief?) Rolaids. Comfort relied on EXTERNAL stimuli.

My downfall was a cataclysmic “domino effect” through over-compensation. All the while I was only seeking comfort and never finding it, only experiencing a series of REVERSALS.

Guess what? I got to the point where I was consistently uncomfortable INTERNALLY. Relying on external sources for comfort, it seems, is a short-term fix with one hell of a list of side effects. My dependence was debilitating and acclimating to new situations required increasingly higher levels of countering stimulus. Heavier coats when it was cold and more food when I was hungry were just a few examples. I was also going through the antacid like it was candy and candy like it was, well, candy.

Ultimately I realized that comfort can be a dangerous thing. It breeds complacency and stagnation. It hinders physical, personal and intellectual growth. It means my Bubbie (I called her G-ma, what I deemed her gangsta name) was indeed a wise woman. I used to think she was just grouchy.

Her house was always kind of cold. Not really warm enough to be cool, but almost-see-your-breath-cold. I (being comfort-driven) made it a point to let her know about it.

“If you're cold do the dishes, “ she'd growl.

I did a lot of dishes at G-ma's house.

And you know what? I warmed up. Not just because of the blister-causing water temperature that G-ma insisted on, but because I was actively doing something. After the dishes were done there were plenty of other chores that made her house feel quite warm. Did her house actually warm up? Of course not, G-ma wouldn't have that. The truth is, I warmed up. I changed INTERNALLY.

Personal improvement requires effective internal change. Effective internal change requires movement. Without movement, the best I can hope for is temporary comfort.

I no longer consider myself a creature of comfort and habit. I constantly try to run just a little farther, lift a little more weight, do more reps, alternate my bleacher climbs, and generally make myself uncomfortable.

The payoff has been worth the discomfort. A month or so ago, I went through all my old (outgrown) clothes and separated them into stacks based on size. I have stacks that go back twenty years. The cool thing is that I've just moved on to another stack, which I think is significant considering that I've also been retiring clothes that have become too large for my diminishing frame.

My clothes are probably way out of style though- circa 1995, but hey, I'm getting thinner and that never goes out of style.