Well, I started drafting a substantial update last
Wednesday, but never could focus long enough to finish it or polish it and
getting it posted.
Good thing I started writing it, though, because if I didn’t
have that discombobulated draft I couldn’t even begin to tell you anything that
I was thinking/feeling/doing last week.
Wednesday was a major roller-coaster of emotion. I didn’t sleep
well Tuesday night which led to a grumpy mood Wednesday morning, which led to
me griping at my kids, which led to my kids being in a bad mood. Coming in to
work added to my irritation when my usual 30 minutes of peace and quiet in the
mornings was interrupted by everyone deciding to come in early. My brain was all
over the place, I had a rough time focusing. I kept thinking of all the chores
and errands I needed to accomplish/could have been accomplishing in place of
being stuck at work. Oddly enough I managed to get tons accomplished work-wise.
I have no idea how. Even though I was unable to take my lunch hour, I was still
able to take a walk in the afternoon and that definitely helped. Unfortunately
the chaos just continued in the afternoon and after I returned home at the end
of the day.
I got really down on myself and was incredibly stressed out.
I wanted to emotional eat like it was my job. It was a bizarre reaction and a
feeling I didn’t really know how to deal with. Normally when I’m stressed or
depressed food becomes my last priority and I just don’t have much of an
appetite; I was feeling this way earlier this month. But this day the desire to
binge came on strong. I don’t know
how to explain it. It was all I could do not to eat the 4 cupcakes on the top
of my fridge and then move on to the 2200 calories worth of pie I had baked
earlier in the week. (More on the pie later.) I ended up having one cupcake, a
few oreos, and then some fruit and kettlecorn – but I went to bed that night “hungry”.
I use quotes there because it wasn’t stomach hunger, it was emotional hunger. I’m
100% sure this was all me trying to punish myself for one thing or another.
Punishment seems to be a trend of mine lately. The negative self-talk came on
full-force the next day, with the usual mantra of, “Well I guess I’ll just be
fat forever since [enter ridiculous illogical reason here].”
It’s funny how the pie began as a stress reliever; the
process of the prepping and mixing, the quiet of the house as the kids slept
and Mike was out for the night, listening to some quiet music while doing it
all, only for the end result to become a bane on my existence.
I made the mistake of entering the recipe into MyFitnessPal to calculate the nutritional information, which came out to 450 calories a slice. Steep, huh? I think I subconsciously told myself I couldn’t eat any pie. Period. Look at the calories, look at the carb count, look at the sugar. I couldn’t possibly eat any of that pie. So, of course, I immediately wanted to eat the whole thing. I briefly debated at 3am one morning going down to the kitchen and eating it straight from the pie plate in the light of the fridge. The pie just perpetuated my negative inner monologue. I even wrote on Facebook a couple days later, “I don’t want to be a big fatso, but I also want to be able to eat all the delicious things whenever I want them.” It amazed/amazes me how I could go from “There’s no reason I can’t stick to a caloric deficit and good food choices for 6 weeks. 6 weeks isn’t long at all.” And then proceeded to stay within my deficit only 50% of the time – if that. That’s not a real spectacular track record, and this is what leads me to feeling like I better learn to love this body that I’m in because I sure as shit can’t seem to change what it looks like or how healthy it is. I don’t want the stress of tracking all my food, but I also feel like I’m not capable of eating intuitively and healthy and at a deficit right now. Not that I’m eating particularly healthy right now, but at least I’m aware of how poorly I’m eating… if that makes sense…?
I made the mistake of entering the recipe into MyFitnessPal to calculate the nutritional information, which came out to 450 calories a slice. Steep, huh? I think I subconsciously told myself I couldn’t eat any pie. Period. Look at the calories, look at the carb count, look at the sugar. I couldn’t possibly eat any of that pie. So, of course, I immediately wanted to eat the whole thing. I briefly debated at 3am one morning going down to the kitchen and eating it straight from the pie plate in the light of the fridge. The pie just perpetuated my negative inner monologue. I even wrote on Facebook a couple days later, “I don’t want to be a big fatso, but I also want to be able to eat all the delicious things whenever I want them.” It amazed/amazes me how I could go from “There’s no reason I can’t stick to a caloric deficit and good food choices for 6 weeks. 6 weeks isn’t long at all.” And then proceeded to stay within my deficit only 50% of the time – if that. That’s not a real spectacular track record, and this is what leads me to feeling like I better learn to love this body that I’m in because I sure as shit can’t seem to change what it looks like or how healthy it is. I don’t want the stress of tracking all my food, but I also feel like I’m not capable of eating intuitively and healthy and at a deficit right now. Not that I’m eating particularly healthy right now, but at least I’m aware of how poorly I’m eating… if that makes sense…?
I also told myself last week that I would get back to
strength training no matter how beginner the program needed to be. That hasn’t
happened. Not even come CLOSE to happening. I did plenty of walking and a
little bit of running, but shin splints derailed me pretty hard core with any
real running action. Then I woke to a little back pain Saturday morning, which
quickly morphed into major back pain Sunday morning. Tuesday I did all right and since my normal tennis date got rained out, I took about a 30 minute walk with my dad instead. Apparently that wasn't smart, even though it felt good. I woke up this morning (Weds) in lots of pain. The longer I was awake and moving around, the worse it got. I couldn't sit or lie down. The only thing that felt okay was standing or walking, and even those options weren't great. I could get in my car to drive into work. I had shooting pain going down my right leg and my muscles and tendons felt so tight they might snap. I started flipping out and crying and my husband took me to the doctor. I have a round of steroids to take now and was giving some muscle relaxers. I haven't actually taken the muscle relaxers yet.. I'm a little scared of them. Tonight at bedtime I'll likely have to, though, in order to be able to get any relief or rest. This is just adding to my less-than-stellar mental place and I'm struggling with keeping a positive outlook and have found myself getting caught up in the thought process of "I'm going to have to deal with this pain forever" several times today. My doctor seemed to think this was kind of a freak occurrence, and I'm hoping for the same.
I’ve been so angry and frustrated by my body’s absolute
refusal to cooperate with the normal calories in/calories out adage. As I said
above, I haven’t been super compliant, but even with my “cheating” I should
have still seen a pound or two of weight loss over the last month – but there’s
been nothing. At the doc this morning I weighed in at 200 pounds. Now, I understand I’d already eaten breakfast and I was wearing all my clothes, jewelry, had my phone in my pocket, etc. But it really
hit me hard to see that number. And I guess I need to get over that feeling
because it isn’t going to change without the hard work and sacrifice that I’m
obviously not committed to making at this time. The fact of the matter is, my
hormones and general body chemistry are working against me right now. I’m not
helping myself by continually over-indulging in sweets and alcohol and other
simple carbs. I’m not helping myself by avoiding strength training and
over-doing cardio to the point of injury. This round of prednisone certainly isn't going to help anything and I'm hoping it won't affect my appetite like I've seen it do to friends and family who have had to have short rounds. But, honestly, if I gain 5 pounds and never have to experience muscle pain like this again, it might be worth it.
While suffering through the worst shin splints I’ve ever had
and now this back pain, I’m slowly coming around to the realization that I need
to slow down and take it easy. I need to be better to my body. Yes, there was a time where I was in decent
shape. That time is not now. I’m not doing myself any favors by rushing into
things and causing myself injury. I’m not benefitting from this sort of
behavior in any way. I think it’s just its own form of self-sabotage. Until I’m
100% healthy (including this never-ending cold-that-is-now-a-sinus-infection),
I need to focus on walking instead of running, making sure I’m doing some
gentle stretching/yoga daily if possible, and a beginner strength routine
starting with body weight and working up from there once my back can handle it. I put a calendar together for myself last night, but I'm afraid today's back issue may derail a lot of that. I'm not sure I can do even the basic yoga poses I had planned for myself for today, but that's okay. It has to be okay, because I have to let this muscle inflammation heal before I can attempt to do any kind of regular exercise other than walking (although maybe even that, since walking seemed to be what irritated this flare-up further).
