This post is Part 2 of Whole 30, Whole Me. Click here to read Part 1.
Mark and I been on Whole30 for almost three months now. Once we completed the initial 30 days, we cheated for Ava’s 6th birthday, a date night and Mark’s birthday. Two of the three times (the birthdays) were stamped with an enthusiastic “WORTH IT!” The other cheat, a date night gone wild, left us feeling bloated, sluggish, foggy-brained and hung over. Not worth it.
One thing repeatedly heard in the Whole30 community is, “Whole30 changed my life.” Mark has lost 16 pounds and rocked his Half Ironman in Kona, HI; the one he wasn’t sure he’d be able to finish. I’ve lost 14 pounds and recently watched a video of myself without cringing and wondering who that puffy, tired, dull-colored woman was on the screen. Not a triathlon, but I’ll take it.
If you had told me last year that I would be a published writer and Mark would be a triathlete, I would have patted you on the head like you were a child who said something sweet but delusional. A couple of months ago God revealed He had some plans for me but that my body and mind wouldn’t be able to withstand them if I didn’t change my habits of eating, drinking and sitting too much. It’s humbling when the God of the universe points out that you’re not 20 anymore. I whined at first:
I’m too busy.
I’ve been like this my whole life, how am I supposed to change now?
I thought it was what’s on the inside that counts.
Can’t you just do your thing through me without changing me?
I heard back; I discipline those I love (Hebrews 12:6 and Proverbs 3:12).
I have a three and a five-year-old, so I got it. Disciplining is constant and exhausting, but I do it because I love those little twerps. God’s the same way with us; he disciplines those he loves, those who are His. These days I’m more scared of missing out on his plans for me than I am failing at them, so I canceled my pity party and got on with the sacrifice and self-discipline.
One of the unexpected perks of this “food experiment” has been increased creativity. Writing ideas flow and refuse to leave me alone until I develop them. They haunted the foggy-brained chick who used to live here a bit, but they hunt this new woman down. Is there anything more priceless to a creative than her ideas? Only perhaps the energy and stamina to act on them. Check.
Two book ideas harass me day and night. My notepad is in my purse while I’m in Target, on the passenger seat when I drive, on my bedside table when I sleep and on the bathroom counter when I shower. The best ideas come at the worst times.
I met with a literary agent last week. One of the main things publishers look for in a potential author is the size of her “platform;” blog e-mail subscribers, social media followers and engagement on her posts. If my words resonate with you, would you please hit the subscribe button, enter your e-mail address, follow me on all my social media accounts and engage with my posts through likes, comments and shares?