Return of the Champ?

Lately, I've gotten some recognition for Jessica and my victory in the Juice Fitness Challenge. Friends who I haven't seen in a while tell me that I am looking good; regulars at the YMCA give me congratulations, but I haven't been able to accept these kind words with a feeling of shame. So much shame, that I hate to admit it now. I don't want to say I fell off the wagon, but I've certainly been hanging off the back with my feet dragging in the dust.

Justification time: obviously, I had to take a step down from the kind of intensity I was rocking during the Juice Fitness Challenge. Two-a-day workouts six or seven days a week, plus a near perfect 1,200 calorie diet made my body feel amazing but had completely squelched my social life and were eating up all of my time and joie di viev. I knew the transition to healthy living balanced with fun-living would be a difficult one. I went to New Orleans for a vacation. I stopped counting calories while I was there, and my goal of jogging daily dwindled as the nights got longer. When I got back from New Orleans, I was sick, antibiotic sick, which is rare for me. Then, I ran my 5k and jacked up my hip. Since then, a combination of pain and laziness has kept me from slinging my leg up over the side and climbing back on that wagon.

It's been more than a month since the end of the challenge and my fitness levels has slipped and my weight loss has stopped. And, I've been racked with guilt, so much guilt that I've been keeping my concerns bottled up.

Last weekend marked a new low: Friday, Saturday, and Sunday were marked by late nights, excessive drinking, and too much food. It started with a wine-washed poetry circle with friends on Friday night and ended with hot dogs, cupcakes, and beer in during a rainy barbecue Sunday night. Sunday night I came home soggy, tired, and feeling like something a spat up by a duck. Was it rock bottom? Probably not, but I did realize, or remember, that eating like crap, ducking workouts, and not getting enough sleep, don't make me feel good. It's simple, and yet so complicated.

Monday morning I got back on the wagon; it's Wednesday and I feel fabulous. I even managed to stay strong in the face of delicious treats at a friend's Pampered Chef party. I skipped dinner, kept the drinking to a minimum, and tried to exercise moderation in the face of a cheese tray. I was successful in my moderation, and I feel proud. That pride, rather than guilt, will fuel my future success in moderation and good choices.

Of course, my workout with Gwyn, yesterday afternoon didn't hurt either. Gwyn arranged for me to meet her at the YMCA Healthy Living Center in West Des Moines. Wow. That is a swanky gym. The lockers are made of wood and the floors are paved with goals. There's a Gateway market stand with smoothies, a hot tub, and super-fancy machines with lots of TVs. Gwyn's appointment before me went long, so Andrew got me warmed up on a fancy ATC machine--like an elliptical but with varying strides. Then, Gwyn hit me with a series of push-up exercises, plus lunges and squats with weights.