I can't live without my Pepsi. I can't cook healthy meals. I can't walk a flight of stairs. I can't afford to buy healthy food/a gym membership/a workout program. I can't track my foods. It's too hard. It's too much work. I just can't.
So how did I get from 240 pounds to 140 pounds? Did I suddenly kick "I can't" to the curb. Nope. I started out my weight loss journey simply to help out my sister- who herself was employing "I can't" in a big way- she wanted to go on the Atkins diet and claimed "I can't stay on it unless you do it too." At the time, we were sharing a townhome and it would have been incredibly difficult for her to be on such a restrictive diet if I were there guzzling on my Pepsi or enjoying a cinnamon roll or whatever form of cheap, sugary, carb-laden crap that had helped make me severely obese in the first place. So, in the spirit of helping a sister out, I shelved the "I can't" in place of "I'll try." I didn't set a goal. I wasn't aiming to reach a certain weight or look like a certain celebrity.
And try I did, my spirits raised by the eight pounds I lost in the first week of ignoring the cries of "I can't" in my head and sticking to the plan. The weeks went by, the pounds kept coming off and that big old "I can't" that had kept me from even trying before gathered a big old pile of dust on it. Encouraged, I started to set mini-goals. Weeks turned into months and when I saw the weight on our scale start with a 1 rather than a 2 for the first time, I laughed and cried and danced crazily around our tiny bathroom. The mythical Onederland that folks on the low-carber message boards I frequented spoke of so often and with such reverence- I was THERE.
Even throughout the seven years of maintaining a ninety pound weight loss, I'd allow that "I can't" off the shelf far too often. I can't run in a 5K. I can't do a push-up on my toes. I can't run a half-marathon. I can't run a full marathon. I can't lift anything other than Barbie weights. I can't get myself squarely in the healthy weight range. I've proven myself wrong each time. Yes, there are some things in life we cannot do- no matter how hard we try. But far more often than not, I can't is just a bad cover- it's what we use to excuse ourselves from taking on certain challenges.
If I had clung on that "I can't," I wouldn't be who I am today. I wouldn't be a healthier, fitter and happier woman. I'd still be that 240 pound woman who struggled breathless to climb up even the shortest flight of stairs, who struggled to keep up with her son as he wanted to run and play with her, headed towards a lifetime of discrimination and ill health.
So my words of wisdom to you for the day is to take that "I can't" and put it on a shelf. If you're unable to replace it with "I will," then an "I'll try" will suffice. Just forget about Can't. Can't is the most vicious lie we can tell ourselves.
