Think about the last goal you set around food. Lose fifteen pounds before the wedding, maybe. Or finally fit back into the jeans hanging at the back of the closet.
For a while, the goal pulled you along. You packed lunches and walked after dinner. You even turned down the office birthday cake, twice.
Then came a rainy Friday at the end of a long week, and the goal felt a thousand miles off. One skipped walk became four. By the end of the month, the lunches had stopped and the jeans were back on their hanger.
Nothing dramatic happened. The habits drifted off, the way they always do.
There’s a reason they drift. And it has almost nothing to do with how much you cared.