122 days until Memorial Day. There’s still time.

That’s the problem though isn’t it? You always think there’s more time.

Time is the one thing that you give away that you absolutely can not get back.

I’ve never been a time waster. Until these last few years. And it’s horrific.

So I’ve vowed to not go another summer hiding and now there’s just 122 days until Memorial Day. 30 and a half weeks. 2,928 hours from midnight. 117 is 4% of those hours. 4% is the average of time that should be dedicated to fitness each day, in case you were wondering where that number is coming from. This means that I should have zero issue getting into a bathing suit this year. With 30 weeks, and the average weight loss being .5-1lb per week, I could conceivably lose the weight I want.

It’s going to take dedication and work. Discipline and determination. But it can happen. And I’m hoping you will be one of my accountability partners. Hell, I hope you’ll join me on this journey.

I’d sold a home. I’m in debt. I’d ended a long term relationship. More work. New jobs. Moving. College loans. Additional bills. Drinking. Family strife. Stress. I could blame any and all of those things, right? Every decision I’d made was mine. I had the choice to step towards my goals or further away from them. I’d chosen the latter. Out of fear. Laziness. Boredom. Comfort. I’d chosen the latter time and time and time again.

No more. Well, I’m going to be much more present.

This girl didn’t hide under clothes or cover up with the dark. She didn’t flaunt anything either, but she had a quiet confidence.

As I sit here in my sons hoodie and baggie pajama pants writing my blog, my eyes fill up looking between where I was and where I am. Just because I’m here now, doesn’t mean that I’ve got to stay here forever.

So I’m headed to my Peloton.

One day or day one? Let’s chose the latter again, this time with purpose.