Courage to make a change
— March 27, 2023 —
I’m a snowboarder—I love it, do it as much as I can, and I’m pretty good. I didn’t grow up skiing, so in my late twenties when college friends first invited me to Killington, Vermont, I tried and was a disaster—I had no form, was afraid to pick up speed, feared the ice and was just basically terrified. But I loved the mountains, being in the snow, and everything about ski life. So, my friend convinced me to try snowboarding. Together we plodded away, got the hang of it, and eventually found ourselves on double black diamond slopes. Snowboarding became, and still is, my favorite winter activity and has had an incredible influence on my life. I’ve traveled and lived out west, visited the mountains of Europe, made incredible friendships through the sport, and have discovered the beauty of the mountains year long. Learning to snowboard is one of the best decisions I’ve ever made.
However, since I turned 50, I’ve been thinking I should take up skiing. For those of you who don’t indulge in winter sports, skiing and snowboarding are very different, and most people pick one or the other—kind of like being a lefty or a righty. Skiing is a more technical and sophisticated sport, but because your feet are separate, provides more mobility moving around the mountain and more control to stop a fall. I believe that as I get older, I might not want to put up with some of the challenges of boarding—bending over to click into bindings, scooting along flat surfaces, or taking the hard falls that are more likely when you catch an edge on a board. That said, I can’t imagine not spending time on the mountain, so I’ve been learning to ski and it’s tough!
I find myself on the slopes that I know so well and effortlessly fly down, slowly making turns, thinking of every move, desperately avoiding other people, and being overcome with fear. It’s a horrible feeling and it’s exhausting. I’ve had to adopt an entirely new mindset and will my body to move in a totally different way than it’s accustomed. I understand the fundamentals of skiing, the dynamics of making turns, how to stand, where to look. I know what to do, I’m just not used to it—it feels odd, unnatural, and that makes me afraid. For me, learning to ski is like forming a brand new relationship with the mountain, the mountain that I already know and love so much. I watch young beginners zoom past without all the baggage that’s in my head, while my patient teacher cheers me on, “relax,” “don’t think so much,” “you got this!”
It's the same thing I say to my clients when they are shifting their relationship with food. The actions aren’t difficult, they know how. The challenge is making the commitment, letting go of the old and familiar, forging a new path, being a novice again, and trusting oneself. It’s humbling and takes courage.
Courage is the ability to face fear, danger, or uncertainty. It's the willingness to take risks and push beyond your limits. It is the ability to do something that frightens you regardless of the outcome. So why does changing the way we eat require courage? Because it requires conscious effort and the willingness to break out of your comfort zone. It means rethinking your relationship with food and breaking old habits. Our eating habits are deeply ingrained, and we unconsciously turn to the same foods and eating patterns repeatedly. Many of our habits have been with us since childhood and we’re unaware of how they even began—possibly rules at the childhood dinner table, traditions from our culture, coping mechanisms from adolescence, or restrictions from an old diet book. Whatever the case, to make changes we must reassess what we’ve always done and let it go. Letting go of the familiar for the unknown is scary. It brings up all sorts of angst—what will I eat instead? How will I prepare it? What will my mom think? What if I fail?
It also may lead to some uncomfortable discoveries. You may find that you thought you didn’t like certain foods because your parents didn’t or because you were pressured to eat them. You may realize that you crave sweets because it was how your family showed love or maybe because they were forbidden. Our experiences growing up impact us in countless ways, and how we eat and think about food is just a part of it. What seemed like harmless guidelines we adopted about diet throughout our life may no longer be serving us and, in fact, holding us back from a healthier, more enjoyable way of eating. Breaking out of these old habits takes you out of your comfort zone. It may also mean facing criticism and judgment from others who don’t want you to change.
Despite the difficulty of facing a new challenge, the only way to get through it is to commit. That can be the toughest part. For me, committing to skiing means spending some of my precious mountain days heading to the easier slopes, missing out on the afternoon with friends, as I can’t keep up on skis, and knowing that I’m going to feel awkward and uncomfortable. Committing to a new way of eating is tougher as it doesn’t have an end in sight. It means discipline, motivation, and the willingness to resist temptation. It may also require confrontation and self-exploration, but the end result is a new habit, a way of eating that over time becomes a new source of comfort—natural, easy, without restrictions and guilt.
Just like I believe my skiing endeavor is worth the effort and will pay off when I’m skiing down the mountain at 70, I believe adopting a relaxed approach to healthy eating is invaluable. Oh, and did I mention one of the reasons I want to be able to ski into my old age is so that I can continue to join my friends for champagne lunch at the summit for the rest of my life.
Making a change is never easy on your own. If you want some guidance and someone in your court cheering you on, contact me for a complimentary session to see how you can shift your relationship with food to eat healthy happily. Laura@IgniteWithLaura.com