I have had comments from a couple of women who actually took the time to read my blog from the beginning, what an honor! It makes me feel like I’m not in this alone and really boosts my spirits. The internet can be an amazing place if you know how to get around it. You readers and commenters help me far more than I help you. I need you and I’m grateful for you.
I went back and read several of my earliest posts and was struck by how just in mid-December I yearned to swim more than two freestyle lengths in a row and I wondered what it was like to swim laps for an hour. A month later I was doing that and I still do it now with less and less time at the edge of the pool.
Lesson learned: if we start it and keep doing it, we will get better. And it doesn’t take nearly as long as you think it will. So just start.
I think my weight loss this week will be minimal, and I’ll accept that. It’s not the end of the world. I have had a couple of moments of nervous eating due to the pain in my pelvic region. I don’t want to go through surgery and recovery or have anything even more serious but ignoring it won’t do me any good. I must figure out what’s going on.
Today will be my last workout for two days. The pool is closed Sundays and on Monday I will drive to Portland to spend the day with my daughter. She has been involved this last month with a Women in Transition group at her local community college and it has opened her eyes to many possibilities regarding school and career. I’m considering doing the same course down here next term.
I spent quite a bit of time researching walking/hiking groups in my area and saw quite a few, but feel reluctant to get involved. I have so many insecurities such as will I be the only “old person” there, will I be the only single person there, will I be the most out of shape person there. Interestingly these are the same types of thoughts I had when I went to the pool to see what I could do there.
I’m thinking the next thing I might do for myself without any investment, is to begin a walk/run routine using the app I’ve spoken of a few times. No need to say more about it until I try it. But we are having a few more days with sun in them, and the other day, when I walked my parent’s dogs, I ran several yards and thought, hmmm, I might be able to do a little of this.
I did not message, email, or telephone my husband yesterday. A minor victory for me. Now today I will try very hard not to do that again. One day at a time, as they say.
Bless my parent’s hearts. As I was leaving to go to my counselor yesterday morning I was feeling terribly fragile and tearful. My mom didn’t really see it, though, and she said, “Well you’ll have plenty of things to talk about.” And I said, “Mom, I’m a wreck.” She said, “Why?” dragging the word out in disbelief as though I haven’t a care in the world. I said, “Because I love and miss him.” And she said, “Nooooo.” Again dragging it out. When I left my counselor’s office my dad had left me a voicemail saying they were going to the mall and I could join them for some lunch if I wanted to. I hate worrying them so much!
I just got back from swimming and it was a good workout. Swimming on Saturdays is a bit unpredictable but it wasn’t any more crowded than it is during the week. I have noticed that on Saturdays I am pretty fatigued from swimming for six days straight.
When I was in the deep pool doing my ab exercises I began to get a “stitch” in my side, yet it felt unlike the sort of stitch I remember in my youth. It was bad enough to make me get out and even now as I type it is throbbing. My poor, poor body. I abused it so, and now my torso is filled with mysteries. On my right a gallbladder filled with stones. On my left (ish) the new stitch. Then there’s the pelvic area pain. I fear I’ll be having a surgery soon and I dread it so much. Yes, I’m a worrier.
The limbs seem to recover pretty quickly, but the poor torso, having suffered years of a bad diet and now layered in fat, well, this is the price I pay for not taking care of my body. I just hope my issues are not too serious and that I may recover quickly. In the meantime I will keep exercising and trying to take weight off because it will make me stronger and make the doctor’s job easier. It’ll help my recovery too.
Years ago, when I realized I was really getting big (I was probably about 190 or so), I went to my doctor and spoke to her about bariatric surgery. This was in the earlier days of this surgery and she told me I wasn’t overweight enough to qualify for it. She did ask me if my breasts bothered my back or neck because they had gotten huge. I jumped on that and soon I found myself having a breast reduction.
The doctor removed 7+ pounds of breast tissue plus some liposuction on the side breast area. The recovery was not easy and I had some complications but thankfully my breast sensitivity is all just fine, everything is all connected and I could button my blouses again.
Because of that, I am now realizing that my breasts are becoming small for my size. I don’t know why I almost find that amusing. And in the end I imagine it will all sort of balance out, or not. I’m not going to go have breast implants put in, I guarantee you that.
I don’t know why, but my very large breasts represented old and matronly to me and I really began to hate them. I prefer smaller breasts on me and I think I look a little younger without that enormous bosom. My god, before the surgery I could hardly get food to my mouth. It was a long journey from the plate, over my breasts to my mouth. Everything I owned was stained. I was mortified by it.
Now, between the breast reduction and the weight loss so far, I already don’t have to worry if I get seated in a small booth because I can fit there. If I were to fly I would not worry about how snug the seatbelt would be, and less embarrassed about what my fellow passengers think of me. I won’t kid you, it feels really good to take up less space.
Even when I used to go to walk by someone, I’d often misjudge how big I was and sure enough, bump into them, or the chair with my hip or butt. Every time I did that I felt embarrassed about the condition of my body, but still I didn’t do anything about it.
Now I’m wearing a coat that I bought three years ago and had almost thrown away because not only could I not button it, I couldn’t even tie it closed. Now I wrap it around and tie it snuggly around my new waist. This waist by normal standards is still big, but for me, it feels great.
There’s a horrible expression that “nothing tastes as good as skinny feels.” I think it’s rather insulting and certainly over simplistic, but on one hand I do sort of get it. Fitting in that booth, securing that seatbelt, buttoning that coat, running with the dogs all feel very, very good. I want to continue to the point that my body is the size that it should be.
I would love to ask one of these people who go from 300 pounds to 125 pounds if they feel as though they left part of themselves somewhere. I sometimes wonder if I’ll feel frail or tiny because it’s been so long since I’ve been a normal weight. I suppose it will feel like the new normal for me but I’m so damned used to feeling like a linebacker.
I want to feel feminine again. I want to dance. I want to wear a dress. I want to be thrown around in bed. I want to look good with my partner. And I feel that I will probably love that more than eating too much which is really what that silly expression is all about.
Thank you again for reading. I’d love to hear about your own experiences with diet, fitness, divorce, middle age, or anything else you’d like to share.
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