When you are in pain, exercise is tricky. When you are sick and tired and you have a thyroid condition weight control is tricky. When you are on a gluten free, sugar free, alcohol free, toxin free diet eating less than you already do is unhealthy and tricky and having fun is out of the question. When all of these things combine forces sometimes you find yourself desperate. You have tried all the physical therapy, swimming, chi gong, pilates, etc., that has been recommended and you end up feeling worse than before. But this doesn’t stop you from coming up with some brilliant ideas. Actually this is why you come up with the brilliant ideas. You are desperate. And desperation is the first warning sign that a particular thing may not be a good idea. The second warning sign is the failure to communicate your brilliant idea to someone else. When I haven’t told my best friend, my therapist or my diary about my idea that’s a sure sign that it’s a bad idea. That is what happened recently. I walked up hill for an hour. I didn’t build up to it I just decided one morning that that’s what I needed to do. Ignore all my symptoms get moving, jump start my body. It’s not like I hadn’t done it before, five years ago. My friend was immediately on my case. But I quickly reminded her about her most recent brilliant idea which she neglected to tell me about. Had she consulted with me before she purchased the Malibu Pilates Machine that she had seen advertised on TV? No she hadn’t. Had she hurt herself the first time she used it? Yes she had. But she wanted a Malibu body and who could blame her. I want a Malibu body too. In fact that is exactly how I got into this latest mess. It’s one thing to feel bad, but it’s quite another to have it start showing up on your body in bold letters. THIS WOMAN HAS NOT EXERCISED IN 5 YEARS. THIS WOMAN HAS GIVEN UP. Tired, sick depressed people want to look good too. So I didn’t tell a soul and headed up that hill.
They say that woman forget the pain of childbirth and that is what makes it possible for them to do it again. I did it twice not because I forgot what it was like but because I knew the baby would be worth it. And after my babies were born I never once thought that they weren’t worth three days of labor (each) and a lifetime of therapy (theirs and mine). I guess I thought the baby would be worth it this time too. The baby being a stronger, smaller me. Let’s just say it wasn’t. Let’s just say I came very close to asking a complete stranger for a ride home. Lets just say I started talking to a complete stranger, some of you know him as God. But seeing as he had never heard of me that was pretty much a bust. So I made it home on my own sheer determination. Some of you may argue at this point that God may have had something to do with said determination, but I remain unconvinced.