The title for this post is a line from some 80's band, likely from England, probably wore gel in their blond hair... can't remember the name, don't feel like googling it, so 50 pretend points for anyone who can name the band.
The idea behind this post is from my own situation of breaking promises. Who have I ticked off by breaking multiple promises? That would be me.
For the past year (maybe two) I have been promising myself that this is the day that I start working out and sticking with it. I have promised myself that this is the day that I eat clean, 5 small meals a day, protein and complex carbs at every meal. I have promised myself that I would walk on the treadmill every day. I have promised myself that I will not eat after supper. I have promised myself that THIS would be the year that everything changes. And so on. I make these promises in writing. I have kept a journal (actual pen and paper) for many, many years. That's where I let it all hang out. That's where private thoughts and family dramas and tears and laughter and hopes and dreams get recorded. That's where I make promises to myself, only to break them over and over again.
I am very open about my age. I am 49, and will turn 50 this July. But lately I have felt 79, turning 80. I truly feel part of this is due to crazy, declining hormones... enough said. However, I have become more sedentary, many days being completely spent after working all day and making supper, with no energy to do anything short of sitting in front of the tv and sometimes realizing I have fallen asleep for a few minutes. My joints hurt. When I get up in the morning, I move slowly and heavily, waiting for my body to get the kinks out and stop protesting. I can only sleep on my sides due to an aching lower back, but then my hips scream out half way through the night, only to be relieved by a pillow between my knees. Due to my evening sedentary lifestyle and my less than stellar eating habits over the past couple of years, my weight has slowly crept upward. I am not comfortable in my body anymore and I've had to abandon some clothing. And even with all of this discomfort and change, I have broken my promises.
Recently, the universe pushed me to try yoga. Once upon a time, I owned an Ali McGraw yoga tape. I did portions of it a few times and didn't really like it. When my husband and I were really into eating well and working out, we bought P90X, an intense form of torture on multiple DVDs with one DVD being yoga. Ninety minutes of yoga. I hated it. Instead of giving me a sense of calm, it made me angry. Lately, colleagues have told me about a woman who teaches yoga out of her home, quite close to where I live. Friends told me that they have started going to yoga at a school close to their home and love it. And with every mention of yoga, I softened to the idea more and more. So I went. Husband went too. It was held in a spacious room above a two car garage in which the instructor's husband also teaches martial arts on other evenings. It was comfortable with lots of wood. She was very personable, accepting, and explained everything very well. The first visit is free, so you can decide if you want to do this or not. The only complaint I had (apart from my body's abilities) was the heavy scent of incense. I cannot tolerate anything scented anymore and could feel my throat getting sore and scratchy by the end of the hour. After explaining this to the instructor, she reassured me that she does not have to use incense and if she knows I am coming, she will not use it .
I think I would like to continue going, but I'm not making any promises.
What about you, have you broken any promises to yourself over the years?