2 months ago this minute I was sleeping off the 1-2 punch of anesthesia and
percoset. Yum.
To look at me you would think everything is fine just fine. I am wearing
real shoes (no more velcro, hurray!), My walk appears to be normal, I don't
grimace in pain.
But all is not back to good. I am not allowed to wear heals (although I have
been cleared to wear on pair of boots because I have a hella arch and the
shoes have a large tow box),or anything with a tight (or approaching tight)
toe box, I cannot run---and my beloved arc trainer does things to my calf I
wouldn't wish I my worst enemy, and most of the time it feels like I am
walking with a pebble in my shoe.
I have been going to physical therapy twice a week but it's a long process.
While I was off crutches after less than two weeks, and into a full set of
real shoes in 3, it's not all back. I can't do a lot of the things I want
to. I can't do child's pose comfortably even! Wah! I am assured that this is
par for the course, and I am trying to take it slow. But I am not and never
have been the take it slow type.
I have been stuck on the recumbant Bike. I cannot tell you how much I
dislike the recumbent bike. I feel so lame sitting in the gym on that thing
while people all around me run on their treadmills, or take MY arc trainer.
On Saturday I had had enough and got on the AT... my dear old friend. I did
20 minutes. I took it easy. The pain on Saturday morning was not nearly as
bad as the last time I tried it, but it was still there, reminding me that I
am not ready for the AT. reminding me how lame I really am.
And strangely this morning my foot hurt. You see the problem hasn't really
been with my foot (although it is uncomfortable to walk on, it doesn't
really hurt), but with my lower leg because of the change in my gait since
the surgery, and because of my stupid weak hips (who knew?). So no workout
this morning. Hopefully tomorrow the pain will be gone and I can get back on
the (stupid)(lame) recumbent bike. I'm working on strengthening my lower
body. Working on getting back there... maybe even to run, but it's going so
slow. so. slow.
I have been doing really well on the food front, and even did meet my
exercise goal last week. The scale is going down, Im doing well... except
that I'm stuck here on this recumbent bike while everyone around me works up
a nice sweat on the treadmills and on MY AT.
My pants are tight. I haven't been to the Y in a month... I haven't
consistently tracked my eating in longer.
My eyebrows are extra bushy, I have zits all over my face, and my toes have
not had any (desperately needed!) attention since I stripped them of polish
the night before my surgery.
My house is a wreck; the ring in the toilet is disgusting me even miles
away. I don't want to talk about what was found in our kitchen this morning.
My bank account needs attention desperately. Our recent spending has been
unheard of for months... if not years.
My car---ugh. I really don't want to talk about my car. It needs a scrubbing
and some maintenance of it's own.
I feel as though I have been stuck in some sort of daze for the last---I
don't know how long. It fees strikingly similar to the feeling I had in
December of 2005, and the countless months before that. As if everything was
out of control... and well beyond getting any control of.
At some point the switch tripped back.
Dammit.
We used to have a joke at work whenever someone would screw up... the
offending worker would just proclaim "Excuse!" Because in the end, it really
didn't matter what the excuse was... in the end they are all just that;
excuses. I could sit here and make excuses all day and night about how I've
been dealing with several different issues including my foot/surgery,
financial issues /future goals, family matters, on and on forever, amen. But
trying to explain away why I went off track is pointless, I know why I am
here at this point. At the end of the day it's because I chose to. I wasn't
working out as well as I could before my surgery, and I haven't gone back to
it. I have chosen to eat poorly, something I could occasionally get away
with when I was working out, and when I had a stack of muscles to burn burn
burn those extra calories, but when faced with my renewed sedentary self,
just settled on my gut and thighs. I have let my emotions dictate my eating
(2 cupcakes during a particularly bad day on Friday, why not?). I have
decided that my surroundings and I are not worth the effort.
I need to be worth the effort.
I have started to come around. I vacuumed. Changed the Cat box, spent Sunday
morning helping the H with heavy yard work. Made big plans to get to the gym
this morning---only to be derailed by a "kitchen emergancy" which found me
scrubbing the counters and floors at 6 in the morning. I still could have
done something. I could have done more. I could have done some pilates,
tried some yoga, something other than desperately trying to finish The Stand
before leaving for work. There was a time that a morning workout was more
important than any book. That if something came up to change my workout
plans I would have found a way to fit something in. There was a time when I
worked out twice a day. TWICE. There was a time when I wanted to workout....
and at times I still want to, I just don't. And that needs to change.
Because if anyone knows that half the workout battle is getting to the gym
that first week, it's me.
So tonight I am going to go home and clean my bathroom. I cam going to cook
a healthy dinner, and then, after I have time to digest a bit, I am going to
attempt some yoga. Nothing strenuous, nothing earth changing. Just me, my
mat and 22 minuted of Namaste. After that, I will tackle the bank account.
Tomorrow I will go to the gym before work. I will not push myself too hard,
but I will do something. I will pack a big salad and healthy lunch and
snacks. I will clean out my car after work and I will cook a healthy dinner
once again. On Wednesday I will do it all again, and make whatever other
steps I need to make to get myself back into the good place, rather than
that ultra crappy place I have been in for the last couple of weeks.
It was in the back of the closet collecting dust, but I think I found my motivation
I climbed on the scale yesterday morning and saw a number I don't like. 153.
That is 3 pounds over my original goal weight of 150. A weight I have
managed to stay below for almost a full year. My chart is above that awful
red goal line. It feels terrible.
According to my last weigh in, I have gained 6 pounds in the last month.
Yikes. The only solace I take is that while I can pack on the pounds with a
quickness, I have always been able to take them off fairly easily as well.
Here's hoping, right?
This morning the scale told me 151.8. Makes me feel somewhat better. I am
planning on being below that red line before my surgery and staying there
throughout my recovery. I *think* that I will be able to do some pilates
while I am off my foot. I need to talk to the doctor about it more, but
right now, that and some weight lifting is all that I think I will be able
to do... and I will be doing it. If it's one thing I've learned over all of
this crap, it's that maintaining a workout schedule, no matter how low
impact or intensity it may be, is key to staying on track.
I got to the gym yesterday morning. Managed 25 minutes on the arc trainer
before my foot revolted, and got my usual weight routine in. It felt
great... why can I never remember that when I'm laying in bed in the morning
wanting to puss out? This morning was rough, but I challenged myself to just
get up and do it anyway---so I got in about 40 minutes of yoga and
pilates... nothing earth shattering, but something... and I'm glad I did it.
This shit has gone on long enough. I need to stop being a baby and, as a
good friend of mine is apt to say: pull up my big girl panties and just do
it. Enough is a freaking-nough, yall. And THIS is where it changes.
Turnaround ahoy!
The most important thing for me to to just stay away from the sugar right
now. I really don't know why I even try to eat it anymore in the first
place, as it makes me nothing but unhappy. So, no more sugar.... for the
foreseeable future.
I need to get my buns back to the gym. For Realsies. Foot be damned, I'm
going to workout. For the longest time I have told myself that if I can't do
40 minutes rocking on the arc trainer that there is no point to going at
all, and THAT is bullish. I am going to go tomorrow morning, and I am going
to workout. If my foot/leg cannot handle the arc trainer then I will just
weight train. After seeing how the arc trainer goes I might decide to swim
again instead... we will see. I WILL go to the gym 3 times this week. And I
WILL do an abs AND a yoga video at least 2 days. I am not making plans for
weekend workouts, but hopefully, Bikram and/or Pilates will be in the cards.
I need to get moving again. this is bordering on pathetic, and I am starting
to feel like an absolute fraud.
Tomorrow morning I will be weighing myself. For the first time since the
beginning of the month, I will get on the scale. I am scared. But it has to
be done. I need to know where I'm at so I can focus on getting better.
Limiting the booze. I'm not going to lie. Tonight I am headed to a
girlfriends house for some wine. And I have plans the weekend before my
surgery to go out with other friends. Other than that, there is no need for
me to drink. All it does is make me hungrier.... and cause me to eat
more/crappier food than usual. So, other than tonight, and 2 weeks from now,
no booze.
Re-read my copy of From Chunk to Hunk, seeing as it's what got me going in
the first place. That book is beyond amazing. Also, re-read some of me old
blog posts. I need to get my head back in the game, and this is how I'm
going to do it.
Track my food intake. I've been using Spark People for probably almost a
year now, but have slacked off some. I was going to wait and re-set my stuff
after my surgery once I was up on my feet, but there is no reason to wait.
It's time to stop ignoring the daily emails, and get back in there and do
something to better myself, rather than just make poor choices and feel
sorry for myself.
Remember that this is not about being a certain weight, but about feeling
good about myself . I have felt so very very crappy the last several weeks,
both mentally and physically, and its because I haven't been treating myself
well. I deserve better than this.
I just ate a taco salad and a cup of white chicken chili. Sounds fine, yes?
Well, what if I told you the salad was drenched in ranch dressing (that I
didn't know would be put ON the "salad" and that I ate it with deep fried
corn chips? What if I told you I ate it all, then downed it with 2
(admittedly smallish) brownies and a cup of (fat free) milk? How bad is
that? What about if it came after a week of throwing caution to the wind,
and eating whatever I damn well pleased, after a 6 bottle of wine weekend
that also (ALSO!) included more beer that I could even count? After the
Chinese on Tuesday night? And the Pizza and the Fondue, and the bagels, and
the pie and the breakfast sandwiches? After I told myself that once I got
back from my trip I would be buckling down for the next 4 weeks, getting as
fit and as low weight as I could so that I would not feel terrible after my
surgery when I will be on my ass (well, at least my left knee) for three
weeks straight?
What is wrong with me?
My foot hurts. It hurts all the damn time now, not just when Im walking on
it. It has befriended my ankle, leg, and ass/low back into hurting as well.
I am not working out. Before I left I did 3 Bikram classes in 2.5 weeks. I
went to the gym several times, I did my Namaste at home. Now? nothing. No.
Thing. I have no motivation, and my foot hurts. But my foot is going to hurt
whether or not I use it or not. And (hopefully!) after my surgery and
recovery I will be as good as new. But I'm not doing it. I am not getting up
in the morning and going to the gym. I am not eating like I should, or
tracking my food. I am just... bleg.
I can feel my stomach itching... which means its getting bigger. I can feel
my pants getting tighter. I can feel myself getting fat again. My worst
fear. Yet I sit here doing NOTHING about it. I am so ashamed of myself right
now. But that doesn't make me work at getting back into the swing of things.
I need to get back to basics. To start where I did when I was a year and a
half ago. I just can't make myself do it. Every night I say tomorrow, every
morning I say later.
I need to slow the wagon down, so my portly (aching) ass can lumber back on.
I feel as though I have done nothing but talk about my damn foot since last December, but I don't think I have given a full update on it's condition here since it was decided just what in the world was wrong with me. Additionally, I feel like I need to write it all out, just so I know what the heck is going on.
First, a brief history:
- Late November/early December: Realize that Fourth toe is swollen and very much hurting. Self diagnose that I have either a badly bruised or broken toe, and try first to ignore it, then to tape it (bad idea), then to will it away. Nothing works. - Early January: Finally haul ass to the doctor. Get x-rayed. X-ray normal. - Mid January: Pain has moved to the ball of my foot, yet Toe is still swollen. Doctor thinks its a stress fracture and orders Bone Scan. - Late January: After not even looking at the scan herself, she confirms her diagnosis and refers me to an Orthopedic doctor. - Wait time on Ortho doc is MONTHS. Get in with Ortho PA in Mid February who blindly follows original doctors diagnosis and installs Das Boot for three weeks. On Valentines day. - Beginning of March: Das Boot is a waste of time, and only makes me hurt more. PA tells me he thinks I have a neuroma, and that it's probably due to the fact that I was a big lazy fat ass for too long, and that the large amount of working out I have been doing is actually what caused it (sweet.) PA shoots the nerve up with cortisone and sends me on my merry way. The shot worked for about 6 weeks before the pain returned.
- Beginning of May: Ortho PA finally sends me to the real Ortho doc... Sara waits for appointment - and waits - and waits - Early June: Pain in foot has almost gone away thanks to sa-weet Birkenstock's but meets with Ortho anyway. Ortho recommends surgery. Sara is kinda Meh on the whole deal, esp. considering she will have to be totally off her foot for 3 whole weeks after necessitating this awesome piece of medical equipment, but after wearing heals to her SIL's wedding the pain returns and she is ready to go under the knife. Mostly. - Because Ortho doctor is semi retired, surgery cannot be scheduled until August 9. So we wait.
OK, maybe that wasn't so brief. But that's the deal-yo. I have surgery at 9:30am on the 9th of August. Until then I have been trying to ignore the damn pain in my foot. For the most part, its bothering me all the time now. If it's not hurting, it is causing strain on my ankle and left calf, which now feel really tight and strained all the time. My left calf is enlarged as well, and it looks as though Varacose veins are about to pop out on my calf at any moment now. My foot feels like it always has a cramp, and does this weird buzzing thing too, where it feels like a fly is stuck in my foot and can't get out. It's all very fun. I have been trying not to let it slow me down because knowing that there will be no working out for 3 weeks has made me feel like I have to get as fit as possible before then, as to not pudge out totally while on the scooter.
The surgery itself is a half hour long out patient procedure. I should be home by lunch time...but since setting the surgery date, lots of questions have cropped up. Like; How am I going to shower? How in the HELL am I going to get in and out of my car? Do I get a temporary handicap permit? How the hell am I going to grocery shop---or cook in my super narrow kitchen on that scooter? And can I rent the scooter, or is it mine like Das Boot? Can I find spinners for the wheels, and can I get it in a custom color like some dude had at the movies? All as valid as the next, but I know I am forgetting things to ask at my pre-op appointment on the 7th---anyone care to help me out with more questions to bombard the good doctor with? Better yet, anyone been through this before and care to help a sister out? I've never had any medical procedures done like this, so Im a bit nervous...
As per usual, after sitting on my last entry and mulling it over and over...
and over, I feel like I have done myself a bit of a disservice.
Also, as per usual, my thoughts on the issue have not changed, but I feel I
left out some things.
As per usual.
What I didn't mention at all in my previous post is that even though I do an
awful lot of bitching, and still see (several) areas that I would like to
improve, over all I am quite impressed with how I look, and how far I have
come. I am not unhappy with my body anymore. I have gained so much
confidence and an extra amount of sassiness (which---if you know me, it's
like having a Sass sandwich with a side of sass for dipping----and maybe
some sasscake ala mode for dessert) and I am extremely greatfull for that. I
also know that the accomplishment I have made, and that the accomplishment
is ALL MINE. I own that, as I should. I am in a really good place right now,
not only with my weight, but in the rest of my life. I am happier than I
probably have ever been. Life is good.
Just the thought of "resting on my laurels", as it were, scares me. Life is
good. My weight is good. My marriage is good, my friendships are good, my
cats are good, my job is good---but they aren't solved. Falling into that
comfortable place and not working towards a positive goal are sure fire ways
to find yourself in a very unhappy place. It is good, even necessary to have
something to work towards, or at least something to work ON. It's that
thought that you could reach that next level that keep you on the straight
and narrow, so to speak.
So Im going to continue to give myself constructive criticism (deep fried in
sass, of course) and be real with myself so I don't end up back in the place
I was a year and a half ago. But I'll be happy as a clam doing it. ;)
Did you know that as soon as your pant size dips into the single digits you lose your right to bitch about your body?
Totally true.
And it becomes worse the closer to 0 that label reads. At a size 8, for example you can get away with saying that your stomach needs some tightening, or that your thighs are still too bulky. Get down to a 6 and about all you can even think to get away with is that your arms are flabbing out. Fit into a 4? Can't say a damn thing. Don't ever EVER mention that you fit into a couple of size 2's that were obviously mis-labled, because at that point you are a bitch for even saying the word "two" in the same sentence as "actually fit me!". The fact that your disbelief is what caused you to mention it in the first place doesn't matter, and neither does the fact that you worked damn hard to zip up those 2's. You are still a bitch.
Or at least that's how it feels.
Maybe I have a hard time because there is still, a year after fitting into my first pair of size 6s ever, a large part of my brain that *is* that girl who looks at the girl in the size 2's and snarks (sometimes I snark at myself---really). The one who rolls her eyes when that "skinny girl" complains about the 10 pounds she gained. Maybe Karma is biting me in the ass for not fully realizing that no matter what size you are, there are times when you don't feel good about your body, and you just want to complain.
All this to say; I have no one to bitch to.
I've tried... put a couple of comments about the roundness of my belly, the jiggling of my arms, and the scary reality that my thighs are very close to touching again---the one thing I worked so hard to get rid of---out there, and have gotten the standard "Come ON! You look amazing! You have NOTHING to complain about! Now my ass on the other hand..." And I get that. I get that it's very hard to hear someone who looks like they have nothing to complain about---or comparatively nothing to complain about say how disgusting they look. I know how it makes the other person feel---esp if they are not feeling particularly good about their body at the moment. I know the feeling of "well if she thinks her stomach looks nasty, what does she think about my gut? She must think Im a total whale---what a whore!". I've been there, done that.
But here's the thing. Perspective changes.
At 220 pounds the idea of being anything lower than a size 10 was not even an idea. Being in a pair of size 4 capri's was not a possibility. And if someone told me that I would be in these size 4 capri's a year and a half ago, after I got done laughing my ass off I would have simply assumed that at a size 4, all my body related issues would be solved. It simply would not occur to me that at this size I could still have dimply thighs and a jiggly stomach. I would have been planning my Bikini wardrobe. And if the 220 pound me would see the 140's me she would have probably been hella impressed (and jealous and snarky) and think she looked pretty damn perfect. But as the weight came off, and I saw what was possible, the pretty damn perfect to 220Sara has turned into the MEH 140sSara sees. A flatter stomach is no longer good enough. I want definition. Smaller arms don't cut it... I still don't see enough muscle. The Thighs not touching doesn't thrill me quite as much as it used to (although, I will admit, it's still pretty thrilling)... I still don't feel comfortable wearing short skirts or a bathing suit because they seem gigantic and dimply.
But others don't get this. And maybe I shouldn't expect them to. I just wish I could say "My arms are flabbing out and I can feel my stomach expanding" and hear someone say "well I don't see that, but if thats how you feel put down the Rum and Coke and get your ass back to the gym and tone those bitches down!" rather than "WhatEVER you have no room to bitch, you look great.. here have another piece of cheesecake".
Not that I don't want a piece of Cheesecake or anything... It's just a little bit like enabling, and if I allow myself into that trap of "I look good, I can have another piece of Cheesecake" too much, I'll be right back where I started.
PS. I did go to the Y this morning. I only did 20 minutes of Cardio, but because of the foot I am trying to stay focused on strength training, and I got that in as well, so I am happy about that. :)
The progigal ---podigal----my son (or daughter) Returns
(Title only funny if you watch The Office.)
(You really should...Watch The Office, that is)
Hithere, hows it going? Hope you've been well.
Me? Doing OK. I have been gone for a long time, but have not been going crazy that entire time. Really it's just been the last 2-3 weeks that I have felt myself really slipping. Between my birthday and my SILs wedding, the on going foot issue, and some serious dental issues, I really just let go. I didn't weigh---and still haven't really weighed for about 2 and a half weeks. I haven't been regular with the workouts for that long either. Im working on getting back in the swing, so I can get back to the best I can be before my foot surgery the first week in August after which I will be completely off of it for 3 weeks.
Right now Im writing here to make myself accountable and try to work through some things. I don't know how much I will be able to comment on other Blogs... and I want to apologize for that up front. Hopefully in time I can devote time to that as well.
I did yoga and some ab work this morning and no matter what my foot says, Im going to the Y in the morning. I have been tracking food for 2 days now, and doing just fine with that. I do need a specific goal though, and am trying to figure out just what it should be.
Today I will do yoga when I get home from work, along with some ab work.
Today I will not eat sugar.
Tomorrow... Tomorrow I will go to the gym.
It's been a long time... too long. It's time to get re-committed. With
everything that has gone on and will be going on I need to be in the best
place possible.
Now who is going to come take that salami out of my fridge?
