I’m sure you’ve heard the term “fallen off the wagon” to describe someone who’s relapsed into bad habits. When they start back on the right path, we say they’re “back on the wagon.”

So you can guess what it means that I’m sitting here in the dust, between the wagon ruts, looking around the grassy plains and wondering where the heck my wagon went?

After a gung-ho start (aren’t they all gung-ho starts?) I’m finding myself once again battling the reality of my life versus the way I want it to be.

I have a couple of dear, well-meaning friends who say I fell off the wagon because I just haven’t found the right program yet…that if I try this particular diet, I’ll be good to go.

It isn’t that. It SO isn’t that.

It’s not the program. It’s me. The problem always has been me…and my lack of organizational skills. My inability to keep a dozen balls juggling in the air at once. Something always has to go, and almost always, what gets dropped is…

You guessed it: me.

There are other problems, and I’ve mentioned them before. But I’m realizing the main one is consistently letting everything else in life get in the way of my fitness goals. Like the funny picture above, how do you then substitute one consistency for another? (i.e. lapsing into old habits instead of plugging along with the new ones) How do you stop being a screw-up?

I’m thinking it has to be a minute-by-minute mind-change, where I stop seeing all this as optional. I have never given up tooth-brushing or showering. I keep telling myself that exercising and eating well should be in the same category as those two items—non-negotiable.

But then life makes me negotiate, and I cave.

Mind you, I haven’t fully given up. I’ve embraced some of my low-calorie favorites and am doing better at portion control and intuitive eating. I’m still enjoying my fruits and veggies,  using stevia in my coffee, drinking lots of water, refusing most desserts. But, that’s about it.

The problem with having PCOS is that even little slip-ups add up to no weight loss. If I don’t do everything right–nothing happens. I can’t drift along half-dieting and exercising once a week and expect to lose an ounce or two. I gain. It’s the nature of the PCOS beast. You can’t half-tame it—it’s all or nothing.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: I’m secure enough in who I am to be fine with the fact that I’ll never be skinny. I don’t really care what people think about how I look. This journey is about health, about being healthy enough to see my grandchildren grow up.

So, please join me in praying for strength to follow those wagon ruts til I catch up with mine and hop back on.

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