full

For all the posts I make about being full and loving this life (which I do. Oh my heart, I do), sometimes it's an honest struggle to do things that will fill me in a *healthy* way and help me to maintain balance. About a month ago, I committed to running a mile+ every day of the week. And it was HARD. I'm not a runner. I don't claim to like running. The first four "runs" I went on, I wanted to quit every 5 steps. I complained and all but fell across my imaginary finish line (the little beep my treadmill gives when my distance changes from .99mi to 1.00mi). But when it was over, I sat in my miserable pool of sweat and smiled because I'd pushed and worked for the feeling of having accomplished something that would benefit me.

The same goes for limiting my dessert intake and my goal of writing 5 pages a day and saving myself for marriage and surrounding myself with healthy, encouraging, authentic people. None of it is easy. It's not simple. It's WORK. But every time I want to give up or give in, I remind myself that I am a work in progress. I don't know what the end goal is, or when I'll know that the work is finished - probably, it never will be. But I'm committed to pushing and working and holding myself to being the best version of ME I can be in order to get the most out of this little live I've been blessed with. And even in the struggle of discipline (and truly, it IS a struggle), I am FILLED when I work to learn more about myself and the things that make me whole.

Work and learn and love and live and love the life you're in. Aren't growth and hope such lovely things?