When it comes to trying to get myself with my own program, it helps to divide the brain into two camps: OldTrau and NewTrau. OldTrau is the part of me that is content to be unhealthy and live like a slob, and NewTrau is the part that aspires to be something better at all times. When I see it that way, it makes it easy to choose a side when the battle is raging.

When I first began to lose weight, there was a sort of mantra about it whenever I would exercise. I’d feel the lactic acid burning me up, I’d feel the sweat, I’d be wheezing and spitting and moaning and getting dizzy and nauseous — and I’d call out OldTrau. I’d think to myself, that’s the OldTrau, the part of you that wants you to stop now is the part of you that doesn’t care if you succeed. Give in now and you make that part of you stronger. Roll with NewTrau and you will look damned sexy in the mirror in a couple months.

So I’d curse out OldTrau in my head, picture NewTrau — a buff, lean version of myself — kicking my own horribly-out-of-shape ass. I’d let the battle rage on, as externally I kept exercising and working harder. I’d forget how much my body was hurting because I was distracted by this sort of meditation I was doing.

Then I got to a point where I had lost 120 pounds overall. I was pumped. I told myself, I AM NewTrau! All that exercise paid off and I achieved my goal. Good job, me. Now go take a breather. I began considering NewTrau as NowTrau. I was pretty proud of that. Clever, right? Cool. So I’d chill on that and be proud of myself.

I felt entitled, like I was owed some relaxation. And now it was time to enjoy summer, to take my shirt off and be proud of the results and bask in being NowTrau.

But what I didn’t realize was that sneaky OldTrau had been biding his time, sure he’d get his chance again. He dressed up like NowTrau and walked through the door like he owned the place and never set off any red flags until I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror one day and thought… uh oh.

The backslide had begun! My weight had gone from a comfortable plateau to a slow creep upward again. Crafty OldTrau… well played.

So I got back on it, threw NowTrau in the gutter and conjured up my ol’ pal NewTrau. Then, I had a bit of an epiphany today as I was jogging and watching once again the epic battle unfold in my cranium…

There should be a sort of perpetual nature to the idea of NewTrau. To the idea of NewAnyone, really. I think it’s healthy to be proud of yourself, but not to be satisfied.

Satisfaction is OldAnyone’s phone number. He always picks up and he’s never busy.

There will always be something better than ourselves. And until the day we die, we should be chasing that version, and never looking back.

NewTrau is always new, and OldTrau — I promise — will always be old.

TRAU