Waxing Philosophical

Lately I have been thinking about goals.
The gym is starting to thin out.
Folks who made unrealistic New Year's fitness Resolutions are giving up already, and staying home.
I have been thinking about what makes me successful at certain goals, and fail miserably at others.
Then, I found this quote:

The difference is in how much I want the end result.
For instance, we have been doing really well as a family with our goal of reading the Book of Mormon.
I want to finish it.
My kids want to finish it.
And although some nights we have been really tired, or fighting a lot, and not really wanting to sit next to each other on the couch, we have still done it.
I am not going to say that miracles have occurred, angels have sung, or that we are smiles and rainbows over here because we are reading the scriptures.
Haven't really noticed a big difference, yet.
But we are united in our desire to get this goal knocked out.

Three years ago, I lost almost 50 pounds on Weight Watchers.
You can read more about that HERE.
(There are even gratuitous before and after pictures for your viewing/scoffing pleasure.)
People ask me all the time how I lost the weight.
Eating better and exercising.
It's not what anyone wants to hear...that is takes effort.
I believe anything can work: Weight Watchers, Jenny Craig, Nutrisystem, your own plan at home, whatever!(although I am partial to WW) but you have to WANT IT bad enough.
You have to want it more than cake, or an extra helping of mashed potatoes, or even cookies.
You have to want it more than sitting on the couch because running sounds miserable at the moment.

I know I am slow to most things.
And at pushin' 40, it has taken me too long to realize this.

That you will find a way to achieve a goal if you want it bad enough, and if you are making excuses for yourself *not* achieving it, then it is only a wish.
Not a goal.

Big difference.

This is why I am writing this down.
To impart this nugget of wisdom upon my posterity.
Sometimes my brain actually works albeit in short spurts.

My kids can thank me later, with a nicer nursing home.
Preferably one with a Tempur-Pedic bed.

Now, on the other hand, I am still up seven pounds from the stupid holidays.
I wish I would do something about it.
But I still have Almond Roca, and thankfully, sweats that still fit.