Confession time: I’m terrible at keeping up with any kind of daily challenge.
As much as I love photography and Instagram, I have yet to complete a full month of FatMumSlim‘s Photo-a-day challenges. At best, I will remember to take eight or nine photos for the challenge. Total. (And I love the idea of the prompts for photos – it’s just remembering to find a good shot.)
Trying to get in 10,000 steps a day? The Fitbit on my wrist serves more to remind me at the end of the day that I’ve been lazy. I’m overjoyed when the darn thing gives my wrist a little goose of excitement when I hit my daily goal.
Heck, I had trouble remembering to log my points daily when I was doing Weight Watchers. (Please don’t ask me if I remember to eat breakfast every day, either.)
When I wrote about selfies and the #365FeministSelfie challenge earlier this week, I knew in my head I’d have more luck taking one really good self-portrait each week. 52 is a much more manageable number than 365, isn’t it?
In 2013, my writing suffered along with – or in face of – all the stresses and challenges we’ve faced since we returned to the US at the start of the year. A step on the scale and my emerging muffin top will attest to the amount of stress eating that took place.
The NaBloPoMo challenge of posting daily was an attempt to get myself back on track.
Did it work?
Mostly. At the end of the month, I had posted 20 out of 30 days. Yes, I kind of failed the challenge but I’m proud of myself for getting back into the writing mode.
Posting daily was tough. Trying to post using the prompts was a lot harder, and I found that when I tried to use the prompts, the writing was really forced. And not my thing. I am too much a Type-A personality to be writing about pressure every day!
For me, though, it was all about the accountability. I’ll be honest: I work out more consistently if I’m in a group class than if I’m meandering around the weights at the gym. I did much better with Weight Watchers when I had to step on that scale in front of a real person (oh, the shame and guilt when I didn’t post a loss…) than when I tried to go it on my own, online. Peer pressure can be a fabulous thing, y’all.
So this month I read voraciously, I typed feverishly, I deleted more yet. I also wrote in my journal much more frequently than I ever have (which is still not up to daily, woe is me). And I found that the more I wrote – whether it ended up a post or deleted – the more energized I felt, the more easily the ideas flowed.
What I did NOT do is fold more laundry, dust or vacuum as much as I might typically. Cleaning toilets fell WAY to the bottom of the list of priorities. We may have eaten a few more dinners that originated in the freezer than the fresh foods section of my local market.
If I do it again, I have to find a better way to balance all my responsibilities.
Would I do it again?
Sure. Just as soon as I teach my 9-year-old how to handle a toilet brush.