Relapse and recovery

Confession: After 26 successful days of eating Paleo, I had a relapse. It started with my trip to Minnesota. I had planned to go a little off course for my dinner Friday evening because I knew I would be on a dinner cruise. I thought that would be my one indulgence and then back on track the next morning.

Well, hotel continental breakfasts are not exactly Paleo-friendly. Yes, there were boiled eggs. I don't know if I've just gotten used to my free-range Omega-3 super-expensive eggs, but the eggs at the hotel were sub-par at best. So what was the next healthiest thing? An English muffin. Grains, yes - but better than a bagel, right? Probably would've been - without the grape jelly...and coffee with creamer...and little fruit danish for dessert (which defintely wasn't worth the sugar or the calories).

Okay fine - I didn't have much to choose from at the hotel. But for the rest of the day, I could control my food choices. I would skip whatever was served at the baby shower for lunch, eat my trail mix on the way home, and then eat dinner when I got back to Wisconsin. Do you know how hard it is to resist little homemade melted ham and swiss sandwiches, cheesy hashbrowns, and brownies? It's damn near impossible. Even if I'd had all the willpower in the world, I would've been shunned by my in-laws for not enjoying the feast that was laid before me. So I ate. It was delicious. And by this point, the guilt started to set in.

Not to fear! I knew I would be able to hit the gym when I got home Saturday evening, and that's exactly what I did. Sure, I was up a couple pounds, but no biggie - that would come right off. And I'm sure some of it did -- until I drank myself silly Saturday night. Bacardi Limon and 7, followed by peach schnapps. Had a fabulous time drinking hundreds of calories.

At this point, virtually the whole weekend is a loss, and waking up with a raging headache Sunday morning, we traded church for Pizza Hut delivery and, I'm ashamed to say, damn near downed a pizza a piece throughout the day. And, to add insult to injury, topped it off with a trip to Culver's for frozen custard.

DAMN! Not only did I completely sabotage four weeks worth of perfect eating and weight loss, I also felt completely sick Sunday night - and not from my hangover. There was no doubt in my mind that my little bender was a one-time thing -- one weekend of reckless abandon and complete gluttony. It wasn't worth it. I have to re-lose some of the weight I lost, clean out my system of alcohol, sugar, salt, and processed crap and restore the healthy balance I had created in my body over the previous month.

Come Monday, I got right back on the horse. No problem. Now it's Tuesday, and it feels good to back to myself again - the "new" self that cares what's in the food I'm eating, where it comes from, and what it does to my body. Yes, if I could go back, I would definitely make different choices over the weekend - especially Saturday night into Sunday. But at least I've learned that this isn't just a phase or some "thing" I'm trying out. This is really what I want to do, and despite a slip-up, I'm doing it.