No it’s not a misspelling.
Your Intention Deficit is equal to the difference between what you intended to do and what you actually did.
Your IDD is really a measure of the quality of your life, and there’s no pill (Tom Cruise can now breath a sigh of relief) that can control the symptoms.
Think about it. How great would your life be had you only followed through on everything that you intended to do up to this point?
You’d have the successful career that you love.
You’d have a great marriage.
You’d live in the perfect house in the perfect neighborhood.
You’d have healthy, well-adjusted kids.
Your lawn would be the perfect shade of green.
You wouldn’t know what night Desperate Housewives is on.
While this concept applies to any aspect of your life, it’s never more apparent than in your fitness programming…especially the eating component.
“I really wanted to stick to my eating plan, but those cookies just looked so good.”
“I planned on going to the gym, but I had to run some errands and got side-tracked.”
The larger the IDD, the more you seem to struggle with your fitness programming and the more frustrated you become.
The way I figure it, if you keep your IDD at 10%, you will have an amazing life.
Do the same with your eating and exercise plan, and you’ll find that reaching your fitness goals will be a piece of cake (the cake obviously falls into that 10%).
Side Note…It’s pizza night. The one night where I don’t fall off the wagon, but rather take a full-out dive from the horse-driven cart of my fitness program to enjoy the insanity that can only be provided by my favorite food. My wife enjoys a piece or two of the large ‘Za (it’s cut in very small bite size squares) while I gorge myself like Takeru Kobayashi (http://www.ifoce.com/eaters.php?action=detail&sn=22) trying to fit in one more piece as the clock winds down to win another Nathan’s belt.
I don’t bring this up to show you that I’m human (that’s debatable). I bring this up to tell you about my pizza delivery guy. It’s always the same guy. Spiked up hair, black eye-liner, black nail polish, spikes coming out of his lower lip and eyebrow, multiple tattoos, and black pants that are 8 sizes too big and cover his motorcycle boots (he drives a Ford Festiva).
Normally, I wouldn’t give this guy the time of day, but he does bring me my pizza for crying out loud.
But I have to say, that he always gets an extra large tip from me.
Why?
He calls me sir. He’s exceptionally careful with my food. He asks how I’m doing…SIR. Then he wishes me a good night and says thank you.
I have no doubt he will become a great success just as soon as he realizes that he doesn’t need to look like The Joker with a hangover to get attention.
Last one…I caught up with an old classmate of mine this week. She mentioned that her boys were now 10 and 6-years-old. She says, “They’re at the age where they think burping and farting is the most hilarious thing.” I chuckled and thought, “At what point were we supposed to grow out of THAT?”
Later.