Well, hello there! It's been a while, hasn't it?
I wanted to assure you that I wasn't dead (at least not at the time of this writing I wasn't. But if I were, it'd be wicked creepy, right? Can ghosts even type?) and that I hadn't completely abandoned the idea of blogging. I've just been...eh...well, I guess you could say I've been otherwise occupied.
OK, that's kind of a lie. The reason I haven't been writing is because I've been to tired to type. I know that sounds absolutely dumb, but it's the truth. For the past two weeks, I've been too tired and brain addled to actually function as a thinking person. I've had all these things I've wanted to write about, but I didn't have the energy. Of course, now I can't remember any of my stories, which stinks, because I'm sure they were entertaining.
Anyways, so why have I been so tired? Well, because I have recently been put on a rather demanding (for me anyway) diet and exercise regimen and I think it's killing me.
It all began a little over two weeks ago when I had to go see my doctor for my quarterly weight-loss checkup. For those of you who know me well, you know that I've struggled with my weight for years. I'm not, you know, carnival side-show fat or anything, but I've been heavier than I should be for a while. I'd been trying to lose weight, but I wasn't having much success. I'll admit to the fact that I'd been kind of half-hearted in my attempts since my last check-up, at least at first. There were the holidays to get through (which is when all the good food is around) and also, I really, really, really like food. I'm serious. I like to eat a whole lot. However, after the new year, I decided to get more serious about trying to lose weight and I thought I had been doing a pretty good, if kind of erratic, job at it. At least I thought so until I went for my checkup and saw that I'd gained 5 pounds on top of all the other weight I needed to lose. I actually started to cry, sitting right there in front of my doctor. It was embarrassing.
I wasn't crying because I'd gained weight, really. I was frustrated. I'm sure everyone knows what it feels like to think that you are finally making some headway on a project or whatever, only to realize that you are not only stalled, but starting to go in the complete wrong direction. Gah! My doctor, who is a dear, sweet, old guy, apparently doesn't like crying ladies, so after a few more questions, he walked out and sent a nurse in to finish up my appointment and to tell me they'd made an appointment for me with a dietician the next week. That was not a good day for me, as you probably noticed, because I had to put an otter on this blog to make myself feel better. Shut up, otters are adorable.
The dietician was not a fitness nazi like I'd assumed she'd be. She's very young, very sweet, and very perky. I really have no idea how to explain my first impression of her, because I'm sure she wasn't being rude in any way, but I think tactless is the right word. She took me into the room where she does her appointments and weighed me, and she said "Wow, I'd never had guessed you weighed that much! I mean, I can usually call it withing a pound or two, I could probably work for a carnival, but you don't look like you weigh that much!" Uh...thanks? Luckily she turned out to be very nice and professional, so I forgive her initial comment. :) Very good of me, no?
The things she said actually made a lot of sense to me, and surprisingly I'd been eating most of the right kinds of things all along. However, as a whole, I was doing almost everything wrong as far as portions, exercise, and I was cheating way too often. It wasn't until she lay it all out for me that I realized what I was doing wrong. I'd learned a lot about about nutrition from a church program we had years ago called First Place, so that part was easy, but the exercise part was what gave me pause. She asked how often I'd been going to the gym, and then said I'd probably need to be going 5 times a week. Oy vey, y'all, the only thing that had made it possible for me to go to the gym up to that point was knowing that there were days I didn't have to go. She also said one thing that really stuck with me. She said that I'd have to make the decision: Do I want to eat the things that are bad for me more than I want to reach my goals. Crap. I hate it when people remind me that my own decisions affect my life. I enjoy being able to blame other people!
It's been hard, I'm not going to lie about that. Changing my eating habits has been, and continues to be, very hard for me because there are so many delicious things I want to eat and have to avoid. I'm not on a diet, per se, because I can eat whatever I want, but for the first time I'm having to decide if it's worth it to eat the things that I know are bad for me. It sucks, but it's slowly getting better. At least I'm passed the point of being willing to trade sexual favors for cookies! :)
The exercise, though...is the worst. I think the exercising is what is slowly killing me. I know that it's just because I'm just starting out with the new exercise regimen, but so far it's sapping my will to live. I've been going in the mornings, and by the time I get back home I'm a worthless lump of person. There have been days where I haven't been able to do anything at all for the rest of the day. The best way to describe it is this: Have you ever gotten really bad news? Like, I don't know, someone you love has died or committed a murder or something equally as bad, and after the initial shock and tears are over, you just sit there in a soupy fog of despair, unable to think or move or function in any useful way? That's how I've been feeling, minus the despair of course. That sounds kind of melodramatic, but hand to God, that's as apt as I can be. I've even had moments were my brain has thought "Oh, are we doing the moveless-depression thing?" and I've gotten tears in my eyes - which I suppose is some kind of reaction my body has to snap me out of that- but then I remember I'm not sad and crying would be weird and unhelpful. I've had moments when one of my legs just refused to do what I asked it, and I've gone places to do errands and had to leave because I was so tired that I was afraid that I'd fall over in the middle of an aisle. I'd sat down a couple of times to write on this blog, but the act of typing was just too much to deal with. That part is also getting better, but very, very slowly.
So that's where I am. I have no idea if I'm going to be able to stick with this, because quite honestly it's hard and I'm a little flaky, but I'm going to try. I'd like to be successful through sheer will-power, but I don't have much of that. We'll see. Hopefully now I'm getting on top of some of this and there will be less of the jelly-legged exhaustion and more of the "Hey, exercise makes me feel good" type of stuff I'm hearing so much about. I've got to get my head in the game, as the saying goes. Maybe once I am able to see some kind of results from this, it'll get easier. I hope so! Keep your fingers crossed for me, 'cause I'm going to need it.
At any rate, at least now I'm not too tired to write, so there's that. :) Now, if you will excuse me, I've got to drag myself across the room and find a place to curl up and sleep for a couple of hours.