There is a particular kind of day that can make you feel like you’ve somehow lost your grip on everything.
Nothing is necessarily wrong. You went to work. You took care of your kids. You answered the texts. You did all the normal life things. But somewhere between breakfast and bedtime, the routine you had been trying so hard to maintain quietly disappeared.
You didn’t eat the way you planned. You didn’t get your movement in. You were tired, or stressed, or just completely over it. Maybe you ate something because you were hungry. Maybe you ate something because it sounded good. Maybe you ate something because you were sitting on the couch watching a movie with your kid and, honestly, you wanted the damn popcorn.
And then comes the part I think so many of us know far too well.
You decide tomorrow will be different.
Tomorrow you’ll get back on track. Tomorrow you’ll drink more water. Tomorrow you’ll hit your protein. Tomorrow you’ll walk. Tomorrow you’ll make better choices. Tomorrow you’ll be disciplined again.
And if tomorrow doesn’t work, there’s always Monday.
We are remarkably good at turning one imperfect day into a reason to postpone taking care of ourselves.
The problem isn’t that you had a bad day. It’s what you decide that bad day means.
I have been thinking about this a lot lately.
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