Well, here it is: I fell off the wagon. Dang near set it on fire and ran away.

I have had a real trying last few weeks.

What happened, you wonder? Well, get the popcorn. Scratch that, get some strawberries and grapes.

Who am I kidding? Grab a glass of your favorite beverage and read on.

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It happened simply and easily, quickly even.

I have been buried with stress from all angles of life.

While that is no excuse to use, it is the truth. Stress crept in, and willpower faded.

Do I unpack and move in here? Nope. I simply do what I have done: Acknowledge it.

I did, loudly and publicly. Yep, what better accountability. I reached out to my Facebook friends and shamefully admitted I had failed in every aspect of the word.

I went through the drive-through. I ate ice cream too much and late-night snacking. I started to feel a lot like Templeton the Rat in “Charlotte’s Web” in his fair smorgasbord.

I was full steam ahead.

This realization came at my regular weigh-in that I do at home. I was shocked only for a minute and then realized just how I did this.

It was then, in the mirror, I said, “Well, it isn’t going to lose itself. You have come too far.”

I went about the rest of my family time on spring break all the while devising a plan — a plan to get myself back, to get my wagon fire put out and hop back in the driver’s seat.

Simple enough. You are asking, “Well, how do I get back on track? She makes this sound so easy.”

Easy it is not. I got back to my basics.

These cardio routines are fierce and sweaty.

Why can’t I have one of those crazy metabolisms where it just falls off and snap your fingers I am done? Well, because anything worth getting is worth working hard for.

Alarm ring. Roll over. It is not 4 a.m. Double check, yep, it is 4 a.m. Get up, Heather.

Shoes tied. Fifty-two minutes later, I’m sore, pouring in sweat in my living room and I am flat out on the floor after way too many squats.

Looking up at the ceiling fan (past the dog hovering over my head ready to call an ambulance), I remember that endgame, that finish line. I had it. The mojo was back, baby.

Go about my regular day, and 18 hours after I got up, I go to bed exhausted.

Next day, peeking out the tiny gap of my eyelids, that is not that dumb alarm again is it? Yep, 4 a.m. is here again.

Get up, Heather. This sounds wildly familiar.

Finish a rough 30-minute power circuit cardio workout, and I am not wiped out on the floor this time.

Sore, brutally sore.

I went about my day setting up a meal plan and daily water. I am feeling good.

This is where I like to be — in charge of my workout, my meal plan and my life.

Do I expect those three pounds I gained to fall back off? Nope. But I do expect to see what has happened and try not to let that happen again.

I can’t eliminate the stress. I can’t take away the temptations. I can’t immediately fix the issues going on right now.

What I can do is control how I react to it all. There will always be stress, temptation and issues.

I just no longer fix them with a Blizzard or cheeseburger.

I fix them by facing them head-on. I don’t want to be a beauty queen, and my goal isn’t to be a size 4.

I want to be enough for me, I want to be healthy and I want to be happy. I am a real person who struggles for real just like you do.

I have added some pictures to this article. This is why I am doing what I am doing, why I am working hard to be a healthier mom, stronger person, reliable friend and better daughter.

This is really my year, and I will really make it happen.

I tipped that wagon back up, dusted it off and I am back in the driver’s seat of that wagon.

Heather Chase is a Seymour resident chronicling her weight-loss and fitness journey. She will be writing a monthly column, published on the final Friday of each month, for one year with The Tribune. Send comments to [email protected].