Yesterday, I kicked a little ass on the elliptical machine. Oh yes, I did. I always thought it was way harder to do than the treadmill. However, now that I’m old, I realize something. It can be distinctly uncomfortable to run on a treadmill due to the concussion that running causes to my prematurely-aged feet, ankles and knees. Ouch. The elliptical eliminates that concussion. Also, I realized that the action of picking up and putting down your feet makes you breathe harder. Oof. So, the elliptical is actually easier to do than the treadmill. That makes me wary of whether I will be able to run the 5K in May. I mean, if the treadmill hurts that bad, the pavement is going to have to be even worse! I don’t want to really mess up my joints, but I do want to run. The elliptical gets my heart racing, but it doesn’t simulate running. What to do, what to do. I am going to have to make an appointment with my MD anyway, so this is just one more issue that I’m going to bring up.
I had some ridiculously good corned beef and cabbage in the office cafeteria today. I am still starving, though! It is nearly impossible to low carb snack at the office, as I left my new bag of almonds at home, and I have no other noshes here.
I am wearing a new outfit that I just received for my birthday yesterday. It is a dress and sweater, size XL, and both fit comfortably, I am happy to say. I can really tell a difference in my body as a result of my weight and measurements loss to date. I appear a lot narrower in my profile view, and the top of my butt does not look like a shelf you could rest small photographs on. (I am slightly exaggerating). Clothes just look better on. When I try to squeeze in to pants that are still a little too tight, I don’t have a muffin top thing happening. Its good.
I am not excited about my vitamins. Part of me really wants to blow them off. I hate taking them – ick. They are too big, and there are too many. But I know that I do feel better on them, and my hair and skin looks better.
I think that I am hormonal, which is surprising, and surprisingly, a good thing. I was looking back at my personality-related posts of last week, and man, was I a hardcore, beastly, bitch of a woman. Also, I am all broken out on my chin. These are, traditionally, signs that I am getting my period. However, I haven’t gotten one in a while, because I haven’t been ovulating.
My doctor suggested, years ago, that I may have PCOS, or poly cystic ovarian syndrome, because of some of the symptoms I was having (irregular periods, facial hair, overweight despite diet changes). She sent me to a nutritionist, who put me on a low carb diet (which I never followed). I never followed up on it.
Now, I’m starting to think about having another child, so I’m consulting with this new MD, who has one all of this testing on me and is taking another look at my old medical records from my last OB and primary care MD. I stopped taking the pill back in December, and I haven’t had a period since. The new MD says I’m not ovulating, and we’re trying to figure out why. Since I’ve had these PCOS symptoms forever, the MD said that it was practically a miracle that I got pregnant the first time.
Now, I feel distinctly like I’m about to get my period, which only happens if you’ve ovulated. So, if I got my period without medical intervention, that would be a good thing.
I’d like to believe that as I get healthier, my body is getting back on track and will be operating normally. Boy, I’d like for it to operate normally. I would really like to not have scalp psoriasis (I’m flared up and hating it right now), and I would like to have the ability to get pregnant (even if I don’t actually try to get pregnant right away). I would also like to get off of these high blood pressure meds, get my cholesterol well under the recommended max for normal, not have joint pain when I run, and never have my freaking back go out again!
I know that all of these are good goals. The true, overarching goal, though, is to feel like a normal 31 year old, and not like someone who periodically feels like she’s 80. I’m tired of feeling like a scaly, hairy, mean, old geezer. (Jesus, I just make myself sound like Quasimodo sans hump!!)
Looking better in my clothes, while satisfying, is just NOT ENOUGH. Come on, old body, get with the flipping picture!
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