While I’m sure we all try to be positive people, sometimes it’s easy to get discouraged and down on yourself.

I don’t know about you, but all it takes for me is one “bad” meal to get sidetracked and fall into the labyrinth of self-doubt and regret: You’re such a freakin’ pig. You can’t even stay on the wagon for one day. Did you really need that slice of cake? And you wonder why it’s so hard to break a 10-minute mile. It’s because you can’t keep your trap shut after a normal amount of food.

And so on.

Sometimes I get so into beating myself up over my failures; but how often do I actually congratulate myself on my accomplishments? Think about it – when was the last time you truly patted yourself on the back for a job well done, whether it was at work, or in running, or even just for checking everything off your to-do list over the weekend? Go ahead, think about it. I’ll wait.

You’re having a hard time thinking of something, aren’t you?

I say no more. Our society praises success against all odds and achievement above all else, but who’s actually holding the measuring stick?

Screw it. I’m going to be proud of my accomplishments. Every day, I’m going to try to find one thing to be proud of – to show myself that I can finish what I start and be successful, even if “success” that day is putting on pants not murdering anyone in traffic on the way to work.

…the power to not kill people!

Today, I’ll kick off this new positive outlook by looking back at how far I’ve come on my weight loss journey, with the only non-Jim-Carrey picture in this whole post:

In 2003, I weighed over 267 lbs, I was miserably uncomfortable in my own skin and I had a severe anxiety disorder. The following summer of 2004, my mom was diagnosed with breast cancer (and later beat that cancer’s ass, hooray!!). That’s when I realized that I had to turn my damn life around. So I started running. And doing yoga, and kickboxing, and the elliptical, and the bike, and weight lifting, and I stopped eating every damn thing in sight. And after 5 years, I lost over 100lbs. And I’m not planning on going back to that size anytime soon.

I do have days (weeks even) where I feel like that girl on the left again. When I eat too much for a few days in a row and slack off on my workouts and call myself a failure. But that’s when I look at that picture up there, then glance in a mirror. I’ve come a long way. A really long way. I worked hard to get here. But dammit, I did it, and I can keep kicking ass because I’m a winner and that’s what winners do.

We wear bad wigs and plot revenge against Bruce Wayne.

So today I encourage you to do the same thing. Think about something you’re really proud of. Something that it took effort to achieve. Have you run a full marathon? Cleaned your whole house lately? Raised a family? Are you wearing a bra today even though you don’t want to be wearing one?

Or are you flexing your freedom muscles and going bra-less?

Tell me about it. I want to feel the love like Chip Douglas up there. Shout out how proud you are of your accomplishments and let’s share the happies!