I know that for me I have to get out of the way and let God take control.
I burn a lot of stuff. My son, bless his heart, eats it anyway. But he makes a face!
If it wasn't for my trainer - who comes looking for me three times a week before 7 A.M. - I wouldn't get my butt out of bed and into the gym. There are many mornings when I think about faking a sprained ankle, but I just put it out of my head and make myself go.
Sometimes I just said, 'I don't want tilapia anymore; I can't even deal with salad. I want M&M's and Ruffles.'