Wednesday, December 21, 2011
I ate considerably better, while not exactly "on".
I'm quite sure I went over my calories, though I'll never know because I didn't log anything...and I don't care to right now.
I'm still fighting that "UGH!" feeling, mostly because I hurt still.
My head is telling me it's time to get back into the game. If only my body would respond appropriately, I'm pretty sure I'd be able to follow that motivation and build upon it.
But, alas...my body still aches in every corner and crook and crease and bone and joint and nerve. (I was going for some alliteration, but it too, like my body, fell apart.)
Last night was my first night back in the gym for a real workout in two weeks.
I actually had this moment when it hit me how long it had been since I'd seen those all-too-familiar walls. Of course the guy at the front desk prodded me with a "haven't seen you in a while"...but, thankfully, I wasn't in a mood to take it wrong or get defensive. I didn't feel the need to defend myself about NEEDING a week off and about actually working out every day the week before, but just in DC, not at home. Instead I smiled and nodded. "How are you doing?" he asked. Heh. How do I even begin, my friend?
I got dressed and it felt strange, but familiar and good.
I saw some friendly faces and smiled.
I joked around with my Zumba instructor.
And then I had THE WORST experience I've had in Zumba since the first day I tried it and my knee popped out and I stumbled out crying.
I tried to be upbeat and positive.
I reminded myself that it was about moving, not about perfecting.
And I'll be damned if that wasn't the one night Ms. I'm a Back-up Dancer for Britney Spears wasn't in the building.
Yes, yes...I'm sure she's nice enough. But I wanted to trip her. I told myself that I was just overreacting. It was my jealousy popping out. Here I was, unable to "hit it" like I usually do, and she's making Zumba moves look like a hip-hop dance performance (complete with the one leg of the sweat pants pulled up...friggin' poser!). Of course, then I realized that I just didn't like her AT ALL when my Zumba instructor stepped away to get a drink of water, knowing her regulars could lead the class in the first few moves of the next song, and Ms. I Got Rhythm decides TO TAKE MY INSTRUCTOR'S SPOT.
I swear, hand on whatever holy book you decide to put in front of me, I almost PUSHED her down. If you want your own dance class, then go get one. Don't go stealing other people's and acting all "I'm better than you." I don't care if you ARE actually better than me, I lose all respect for your talent when you get too self-assured and act like an ass in front of me.
I swear I tried my best not to focus on Ms. I Know I'm Perfect, even though it was hard, but even when my focus wasn't there, I kept getting distracted by aches and pains and pulls and tugs throughout my body. With each song I was having to adjust more and more. Smaller steps, tiny hops, little to no core movement...it was going downhill fast. And about 20-25 minutes in, it all broke down. I broke down. I fought my way through one or two more songs, though I don't quite remember as everything in those last few minutes were blurred by the torturous screams from my hips and knees and back and foot.
And I did the only thing I knew I could. I felt the tears coming, so I quickly picked up my water bottle and headed outside of the room to stretch...and cry. Some of those tears were for the patheticness I was feeling. I used to RULE the Zumba floor. I was getting SO good. And now, I felt, I was right back at square one (though not exactly..I am still able to jump, whereas I could NOT do that before). But most of those tears were from the searing pain in my hips and back.
How does it still hurt? I took over a week off. I did very little other than that one day I had that huge event which required me to be on my feet for several hours, walking around the venue, catering to people, and doing no less than 50 squats in order to dodge under video cameras recording the event. Other than that one day, I rested.
So...why? Why does it still hurt SO much. It's like that week never happened. I got NOTHING out of that week other than a few moments of peace for myself.
Confession? I'm scared.
I'm scared because I do not want to face the fact that I may have to kiss every dream I ever had, everything (activity-wise) I ever loved goodbye.
Trail hiking? That's out.
Running? No way.
Zumba? Not unless you want to spend the night in agonizing pain.
Core work hurts, so that will cut boxing right out of the picture.
Even biking hurts my hips now.
And lifting weights? Don't make me laugh...or gag from the pain I'd feel.
What the hell does that leave? Honestly.
No, I can't swim unless I'm willing to risk hypothermia.
(Again, there is NO pool around where I live that is indoors other than the one in the senior center, which closes before I even get home from work. So swimming is OUT.)
So what else do you got for me?
I swear if I hear one more person tell me, "Why don't you just do XXX?" like it's an original thought I'm going to punch them. I know they mean the best but I kid you not, everything I have tried so far has caused pain. From Yoga to Lifting to Dancing to Boxing to Walking - EVERYTHING.
So my only other option?
Do it anyway.
And that scares me too. It means more days/nights spend hurting and trying not to say anything about it because I get tired of hearing it out of my own damn mouth.
And it scares me because people around me keep having to have major joint surgeries - hips, knees, etc. and I'm scared that I might be next on the list. (But how do they fix a jacked up pelvis?)
Sometimes I just get scared because I wonder what caused this. And thankful that I have two boys who will likely NEVER have to worry about getting this if it is, in fact, hereditary. (Although both of my sons asked me for "a little sister" for Christmas last night and I nearly punched them...instead I just laughed uncontrollably. Could you even imagine adding that into my current problems?!)
I spend each day trying to fight.
Trying not to cry.
I feel lost.
No, I feel the loss - the loss of my spirit, my ability, and my sanity.
It's not that I don't WANT to do the right thing, it's that it hurts SO much to do anything. The least amount of pain I feel is laying completely still on the couch. Even the bed hurts most nights.
I have no choice.
It's going to hurt.
And I'm just going to have to do it anyway.
Because maybe I will "work it out".
Or maybe stretching will help (hasn't yet).
Or maybe building stronger muscles will better support those joints.
Or maybe losing more weight will help alleviate some of the added pressure.
Doing nothing is...doing nothing. And even that hurts.
So I guess I'd rather hurt doing something.
So, I have to rejoice in the little things.
In order to ignore the nagging headache that follows me daily from the mess that is my back. Counting down the days until my next chiropractic appointment and praying to whoever will listen that it will help or, miracle of miracles - make the pain go away.
Yesterday's little things?
- Home-cooked meal. (Granted, my boys cooked it because I was crying on the couch, but still...)
- Brought my lunch to work and ate that instead of ordering in.
- And I completed 30 minutes of agonizing Zumba...with severe modifications.
At least I'm moving in the right direction again...I hope.