I read an article last night–as close to clickbait as the New York Times gets for me–about weight loss. (Read it here.) As one could predict, it offered zero novel insights, very little by way of advice that one can take immediate action on, and reiterated how difficult and long the process is. Not motivational for me, more along the lines of “You already know what you have to do, so this is your fault.”

However, that’s my own source of personal shame, a seemingly endless font, providing tone for an article that was actually meant to be positive. The key takeaway was that lifelong habits take time to develop and rigidity can make that impossible. Building wellness into your life includes the valuable practice of how you carry on when you make choices or take actions that are not in your very best interest. Carrying on. With the commitment, with the plan, with the goal.

As I pursue good health and wellness after thyroid cancer, I’ve learned to manage a blend of some rigidity, plus some really aggressive routines, plus some important life-long habits I’m trying to build, and some stuff that’s pure aspiration.

In some cases, like with taking my daily medication, I consider this behavior a rule and without negotiation. I put in the time to identify the right tools and to rigorously follow my own rules to help me accomplish as close to perfect execution as possible. But the key is that I focused on just one thing. It also helps that if I miss a day, I feel like absolute hell.

Physical fitness is critical to my well being. Yes, there’s a physical health benefit–obviously. But moving my body, pushing my body, doing physically hard shit, is a big part of maintaining my mental health. I set a goal for myself to do something strenuous five days a week. I lift twice a week with a trainer. Working with a trainer is an investment I’ve made in myself for life. A trainer helps me with more than just accountability and what to do, this is a person who has partnered with me to help me take care of my body so that I can rely on it long into the future. I’ve had six knee surgeries, a hip surgery, three abdominal surgeries, and thyroid surgery. I also have a modest collection of injuries that haven’t been repaired that I simply maintain to the best of my ability. Learning to keep my body tuned so that it’s functional and feels fine (pain management through fitness is real!), this is an everyday commitment. My trainer helps me with this in a very necessary capacity. I need someone to cue me when my mechanics are incorrect. I need someone to think about how my body works and how to make it work better so that I don’t have to. All I have to do is show up and work hard. And it’s absolutely worth it.

But I have to listen to my body too. I do have injuries. I’m not that young. And I have a serious health condition that I must manage every day for the rest of my life. So if I’m hurting, or exhausted, or something isn’t right… I’m going to adjust. Sometimes that means my trainer and I scrap the intended program and adapt on the fly. Sometimes it means taking a TRUE rest day, even when it wasn’t scheduled. I’m in it for life, so while every day counts, I have to think about how that day contributes to my overall goals for health and wellness.

Nutrition is my dullest tool. I really love food. But, more dangerously, I really love EATING. The act of eating itself is deeply satisfying to me. Unfortunately, this means I will overeat even when the food is mediocre. Even when the food is not good (especially when it’s free). So mindful *eating* is something that I am practicing. I’m not good at it, but I’m trying. So when I want something that is calorie dense and maybe not the most healthful option, that’s fine… I just need to take the care to slow down and really savor it so that the satisfaction lasts a lot longer. Then I find I don’t need to repeat the indulgence quite so often.

And then, the next day, I don’t over-correct. I just carry on.

So maybe I’m doing some of the stuff that this article says to do. And deep in my gut and somewhere in the back of my brain, I know that it’s going to take a very long time to get to my goal and a shitload of discipline and patience. And I still want a magic pill.

But today, I didn’t get up on time. I didn’t do my workout on time. I got up late. I ate breakfast. I made tea. I did some work. Then I gave myself a window and I put on my bike tights and a sports bra and went to the garage. I gave myself permission to stop early, to give it less than full effort. But the requirement I imposed on myself was to just fucking do it. Show up for myself. Honor the commitment I’ve made to my health. Just do something.

And I did the full hour. And I tried. And it was uncomfortable. But I did it. And tomorrow I’ll lift. And on Friday it will be that much easier to go into the garage and take care of myself.