Today I have that hint of desperation (oh wait, I'm always desperate). It is the second day of my period so I am not surprised that I am a pound up. However, it is no secret that my attempt at dieting is more accurately an act of self-sabotage. I've promised to make a clean start today and actually write out a food plan, rather than simply recording my consumption.
About a year and a half ago, I was working out twice a week with a personal trainer. I also attended her Pilates class on Saturdays and still made it to the gym another two times to get a good run in. Then something happened. I noticed my knees were grinding during certain Pilates moves. I went on a decadent weekend vacation to Vegas and returned with crippled knees. What happened? I'm still not certain. I remember sitting in a very cramped waiting area in the airport for over two hours - crossing and uncrossing my uncomfortable legs (why I didn't just get up and walk around, I don't know). Once there, I wore 4-inch heels whenever we went out, standing in long lines just to get into overpacked clubs with no seating. I stuck religiously to my Pilates routine, regardless of that annoying grinding sound.
Later, at my orthopedist's office, I listened as he tried explaining that I have arthritus in my knees. What the hell? I'm in my thirties, and that's impossible. Arthritus doesn't come on like an injury. Several months later, and a different orthopedist office, I learned that yeah - he's probably wrong, but what I do have is preliminary to arthritus, and you can forget all that jogging you fat cow. (I added the fat cow part). Physical therapy helps, but has not replaced the only regular excercise that can actually get my heart rate up, that I love and even makes me feel good.
I was floating between 180 and 185 then and really feeling desperately fat. Much of my weight had come on during dissappointing IVF attempts. Three at the time. Five pounds per miscarraige or failed cycle. My orthopedist suggested that I put that on hold until I lose weight and strengthen my knees. Then I could forget about ever getting pregnant, if it depended on my weight. Besides, fat chicks get pregnant all the time. So I tried one more time, and, well, nothing - but more poundage.
After almost a year of physical therapy - knees and hip (that's another story), I can finally feel good about walking and even taking the stairs, and now my heel spur kicks in. Boy, I haven't even reached forty, yet, and I'm a mess. I was so grateful when my husband who plays basketball and/or raquetball at least three times a week threw out his back last week. An ambulance had to come because he couldn't get out of bed even to pee. (George - I'm not really glad you were hurt.) Even healthy, strong, thin people have their problems, right?
I want to nip that heel spur thing in the bud and forget about insoles, taping and stretching and just get the damn thing removed. And while I'm under anethesia, why not get a little lipo and tummy tuck while I'm at it. Just kidding, sort'of. The lipo thing sucks - it really hurts, for months, even. Remember the Pilates instructor/personal trainer? Gorgeous woman in her early thirties. She finally got her settlement check from her ex-boyfriend-abusive-professional-basketball-player-father-of-her-child and the first thing she did was have liposuction, tummy tuck and a boob job. She walked around like a 90-year-old for nearly the entire summer, she was in so much pain. And the bigger boobs really just made her look fat. This was really disheartening for me. If a gorgeous, perfectly in shape, athletic guru couldn't accept her body, what chance do I?
Now I'm at 195 - not even floating. 195 with the real potential of going higher. I have a solid fifty pounds to lose. At my height, 5'10", 145 lbs is right in the middle of a healthy weight range. Considering my bone struction isn't particularily large, and my muscle density is light (even when religious about weight training, couldn't even see a bulge - I'm just soft), 145 should be a reasonable goal.