When I look back on my recovery from eating disorders, I ask myself what the most important thing was for me.
Was it my diet? Was it more protein, less protein? Was it eating less junk food? Was it eating out less? Was it more willpower? Was it more self-discipline? Was it less free time to engage in those activities. Was it more commitment?
I think the biggest thing was taking today seriously.
One thing I talk about in my free video (oh, I'm sorry, I meant "masterclass." That's the new cool word to use in the coaching world today. I guess "training" is too boring) is the importance of taking today seriously.
What I mean is that you should realize that you don't have a lot of time. You could die tomorrow. I know that sounds scary, but it's true. My former neighbor in Virginia died of brain cancer at age 36. She left behind a husband and two kids, not to mention her brother and parents. 36. That's not much older than me!
This doesn't mean you will overcome eating disorders, stop overeating, or create new habits overnight. What it means is that you should have some sense of urgency.
I used to be flippant for the longest time. Oh, I can wait until next week, next month, next year to make changes. I can keep doing what I'm doing for now. It doesn't matter.
I get mad sometimes thinking about how careless I was about my time. I can't believe how little I valued my life. It's sad that I didn't think that part of my life was valuable.
That's all for naught now. I can't go back and get those years back. I have good memories of those years, but a lot of bad ones too.
My advice to you is to do something today to move you in the right direction. It could be anything. Add an apple to your meal plan. Shut off electronic devices 30 minutes before bed. Turn off the news. I don't care. Do something.
I'm writing this e-mail to myself five years ago. I'm also writing it to you.
If you're struggling to make changes now, then click here and let's get started: https://bit.ly/2UQcLBW
PS- You might not be here tomorrow! So click the link.