I'm still here ...

I'm sure no one was wondering, but my big ass is still alive. If you have a look at my little diet chart, you'll see a peak and drop. Here's the explanation:

My first 12-week Biggest Loser Challenge ended two Tuesdays ago. No, I didn't win any prizes or money. Some dude in my class dropped more than 60 pounds in three months off of a 270-pound frame. Saunas and protein shakes, apparently.

Anyhow, I ended up losing about 26 pounds in the 12 weeks, and I was very happy with both the results and the regimen. I looked better, I felt better, my pants kept falling down -- what more could you ask for?

But, I kept wondering -- what would happen if I decided to going back to eating the way I had a few months ago? A buffet every third night, snacking before bedtime, generally always having something terrbile for me around?

So I did it.

For one solid week, I ate like the old Frazer. We had AYCE fajitas and Chinese (not at the same time, of course). I had hamburgers and fried chicken. I tore it up.

And by the end of the week, I felt like crap. We went to CostCo on the Monday night before my next 12-weeks sessions started, and where I normally would have been fired up to jam a hot dog and poutine down my gullet, I just felt ... sick. I was ready to get back on the beam.

And now I am. I gained back five pounds in the week, but in the first week of the Challenge, I lost 6.6 pounds. Net gain of a pound and a half? I'll take it?

And I feel better. I'm sleeping well again, my energy level is up, and I don't feel like I need a nap at 2 p.m. every damned day.

I'm glad I did it. I feel refocused and refreshed, and even my coaches think it may not have been such a bad idea. We'll see how things go for the next 11 weeks, but I hope you are as geeked up about your goals as I am!

Happy losing!