It's April 30th. 34ish days ago, I went to the grocery store and spent about $200 on green vegetables, assorted fruit, hemp protein powder, the ingredients to make homemade power bars, and whole grains. The lady in line behind me at the checkout looked at my grocery haul and said to me, "I want to come over and cook at your house. Everything's so green and healthy, and here I am with my white bread." I smiled at her and quietly told her I was preparing to start a 30-day fitness challenge. I probably explained what barre is - a super fun, hard workout that combines pilates, yoga, and ballet to high-tempo hiphop or dance music - and received her warm, excited congratulations before the cashier asked me for my Co-op number. I was wearing my signature post-workout outfit: leggings, comfy flats, a tanktop, a lululemon hoodie, and my Raptors hat. I think I was probably drinking cold-pressed too, or I had some in my shopping cart - or both. Rather easily I slipped into the stereotypical mould of workout-addicted yogi mama sans offspring. And rather naturally, I rose to the challenge of the barre as soon as it was announced in mid-March, which now feels like ages ago. I was already on the right track, and I already found the exercise to be incredibly addictive. The challenge facilitated my already-present intentions of showing up and dancing my little heart out as much as I could. On top of that, it was well-timed, allowing me a chance to shape up and get fit, strong, and mentally balanced before heading off on my upcoming trip of 9 straight weeks on the road, and far away from home. I started incredibly strong. The first 10 days were consistent and I felt great. I blogged about the experience and the studio shared it on Facebook and then with the rest of the teachers. I felt supported, empowered, and all-around fantastic. My birthday week was coming up and when Boost Your Barre AND Diva Hip Hop were announced for the night of my big day, I was getting ready to move all my plans around so I could go. I stayed for 3 classes straight that night and I loved it. The BBW community is really special. All strong, beautiful, go-getting women willing to support each other and dance their hearts out. I found home in a place I never thought I would. So where did I go wrong?
I showed up for one more class after my birthday and then my attendance began to dwindle. I did a few doubles over the course of the month when I noticed I started to slip. In my mind I was getting ahead, but what that ended up being was setting myself up for permission to fall behind. It wasn't failure yet. But failure begins the second you lose sight of your goal. And that was it. This is the part where I give you all the detailed, well-articulated reasons - excuses - why I failed. But fret not, there's a purpose for all of it. My body blog is never meant to discourage anyone. So hang on, babes.