I have genetically weak knees. My mother has had surgery twice on one of her knees, and the other is in need of surgery because it has no cushioning left under the patella (due to arthritis) but mom refuses to undergo another painful and deblilitating knee surgery. My 99 year old grandmother, who just died last week, had arthritis in her knees, wrists, fingers and hips. She also had osteoporosis, but would never admit it, though her back was bowed so far she looked like a question mark from the side.
I remember listening to the crepidus in my mothers knees make a sound like the popping of rice krispies cereal in milk whenever she walked up or down the stairs in our home in Sailorville. In the last 10 years, my left knee has started to make that same noise, and it would occaisionally give out on me when I was walking down long flights of stairs when I worked at the PNA. But I've been trying, since my 20s, to be good to my knees and only do low-impact aerobics, leg-strengthening exercises and keeping my weight down, with varying degrees of success.
I've talked before about my episodes of edema and pain in my feet and ankles, and how staying away from sodium nitrate keeps me from repeat episodes of leg bloat. Over the holidays, as I was stressfully stuffing myself with sweets, I also managed to stop by 7-11 several times for the sodium-nitrate-filled hot dogs or "big bites" as they're called in the convenience store world. But this time, instead of swelled and painful ankles and feet, I got a swollen left knee. Then I attended boot camp class two weeks ago and, in the process of doing "crab tag" which was basically running on your hands and balls of your feet sideways while trying to tag everyone else in the class (after being tagged, you were required to drop and do 5 push ups), I managed to move sideway to the right while my knee went left, and pull something under my kneecap. So now my knee was doubly swollen, painful and there was limited range of motion. I thought of trying to wrap it in an ace bandage, but Janice seemed to think that the only way to actually get my knee back into shape was to keep working it without bandages. Not wanting to be considered a wimp, I concurred, and have spent the last couple of weeks favoring my left leg in class. Fortunately, this week it seems to be better, probably because I've been sucking down a lot of Aleve after class each night. I'm hoping that now that the holidays are over and my stress levels are sinking slowly, that I will be able to stop snarfing sugary breakfast cereals for snacks and that I can stay away from the call of the convenience store hot dogs! I feel like I still have four of the 9 pounds I gained over Christmas yet to lose, but I am going to the gym regularly, at least 4 times a week, and I work out hard while I am there, so I hope to start making my way back down on the scale soon. I have summer boot camp to look forward to, and while I am waiting for some warmer temps and a little sprint sunshine, one of the instructors at Work It Out has decided to revive the Sunday Spouse Spin class! WAHOO! Now if I can just persuade Jim to go to class with me, I will be all set. It has been too cold and rainy for us to take a family walk on Sundays, but this would be a great substitute for that until the weather warms up. Meanwhile, I plan on checking out that new drink that has glucosamine and condroitin in it for joint health that has been advertised on TV. I don't know if it's dairy free or not, but it looks promising.
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Thursday, January 3, 2008
Starting Strong in 2008
For the past 5 days, I have had Crohn's flare ups every evening, like clockwork. Some have been early in the evening, some after supper, but all have been extraordinarily painful and bloody, for some odd reason. I am unsure if I've been flaring because of stress again, or if it is because of all the holiday foods I've been eating alone and at social gatherings, where I must trust the hostess to know if the foods have dairy or eggs in them.
Yesterday was the first day of this week that Work It Out was open for classes, and, in a bit of rum luck, my Crohns started flaring with extreme colon pain right at 5:25 pm, so I was unsure whether I could get it under control in time to make it to Boot Camp class at 6:30, or whether I'd be able to 'gut out' the class at all.
So I took two Aleve and said a prayer to whatever exercise gods there are, and drove to class anyway, with the tape in my head of my father saying "Thank you for being so strong, DeAnn" over the holidays ringing in my head. He said he has a photo of my grandmother, Alta Gayle, and her mother Blanche Morrow and myself side by side on his desktop, as he likes to look at the three strongest women he's ever known. I found myself being thrilled and humbled to be in such company, as I know my great-grandmother raised 10 children by herself after her husbands untimely demise, and none of them starved or were mistreated in any way, and all were literate. My grandmother Gayle was an extraordinary woman who gave birth to 3 of her four children on her kitchen table without help from a midwife. She cut my fathers umbilical chord with a butcher knife, wrapped him up and stuck him in an improvised sling and went back to work in the corn fields. When my father had a terrible asthma attack at age two, my grandmother sat up with him for 24 hours straight, breathing for him and holding him over steam to keep his lungs open. She saved her 'pin money' from the sale of eggs, pies, sausages and other speciality meats (they had a meat locker and butchered many of their own Black Angus cattle for themselves and the surrounding Amish and Menonite farmers) to send my father to college for four years at Iowa Wesleyan. She endured an abusive husband and all manner of terrible weather and farm crisis, plus a bout of breast cancer in her forties, which she survived by 45 years. To my mind, my grandmother, great-grandmother and my mother are all vastly stronger women than I will ever be. They could all cook better than I can, too, and run a household, raise a family and still bring in money by working outside the home or selling handicrafts or food items. They did these things as a matter of course, and did not complain or whine about it.
I, on the other hand, have kvetched mightily about all the setbacks I've had, and I struggle every day to keep it all going. I can barely cook, though I can bake sweets and such. I only have one child to raise, and doing so becomes more difficult the older he becomes and the more schoolwork he bemoans. But I am determined and stubborn as a badger, so I continue to try and live up to my matriarchal heritage, and not wimp out when I am in pain.
With all that in mind I went to boot camp class hoping I'd be able to make it through half the class without having to run to the restroom. I surprised myself by making it through the whole class and focusing on completing each exercise to the best of my ability, instead of thinking about the cramping of my wretched colon. By the time I'd finished the last 20 abdominal crunches-from-hell, I actually felt better than I had at the start of class. Perhaps the endorphins that started up when I began to sweat were putting out the colonic flames, but I don't know that for certain.
However, last night I was unable to sleep through the night because the cramps and diarreha began to take their toll, and I had to take one-fourth of a Percoset to get some rest and stop the pain this morning.
At any rate, I am proud of myself for not taking the easy way out, and staying at home with a heating pad on my belly. I went to exercise class to keep my promise to myself to be strong, and get stronger every day. I don't think the ghosts of my grandmothers would have it any other way.
Yesterday was the first day of this week that Work It Out was open for classes, and, in a bit of rum luck, my Crohns started flaring with extreme colon pain right at 5:25 pm, so I was unsure whether I could get it under control in time to make it to Boot Camp class at 6:30, or whether I'd be able to 'gut out' the class at all.
So I took two Aleve and said a prayer to whatever exercise gods there are, and drove to class anyway, with the tape in my head of my father saying "Thank you for being so strong, DeAnn" over the holidays ringing in my head. He said he has a photo of my grandmother, Alta Gayle, and her mother Blanche Morrow and myself side by side on his desktop, as he likes to look at the three strongest women he's ever known. I found myself being thrilled and humbled to be in such company, as I know my great-grandmother raised 10 children by herself after her husbands untimely demise, and none of them starved or were mistreated in any way, and all were literate. My grandmother Gayle was an extraordinary woman who gave birth to 3 of her four children on her kitchen table without help from a midwife. She cut my fathers umbilical chord with a butcher knife, wrapped him up and stuck him in an improvised sling and went back to work in the corn fields. When my father had a terrible asthma attack at age two, my grandmother sat up with him for 24 hours straight, breathing for him and holding him over steam to keep his lungs open. She saved her 'pin money' from the sale of eggs, pies, sausages and other speciality meats (they had a meat locker and butchered many of their own Black Angus cattle for themselves and the surrounding Amish and Menonite farmers) to send my father to college for four years at Iowa Wesleyan. She endured an abusive husband and all manner of terrible weather and farm crisis, plus a bout of breast cancer in her forties, which she survived by 45 years. To my mind, my grandmother, great-grandmother and my mother are all vastly stronger women than I will ever be. They could all cook better than I can, too, and run a household, raise a family and still bring in money by working outside the home or selling handicrafts or food items. They did these things as a matter of course, and did not complain or whine about it.
I, on the other hand, have kvetched mightily about all the setbacks I've had, and I struggle every day to keep it all going. I can barely cook, though I can bake sweets and such. I only have one child to raise, and doing so becomes more difficult the older he becomes and the more schoolwork he bemoans. But I am determined and stubborn as a badger, so I continue to try and live up to my matriarchal heritage, and not wimp out when I am in pain.
With all that in mind I went to boot camp class hoping I'd be able to make it through half the class without having to run to the restroom. I surprised myself by making it through the whole class and focusing on completing each exercise to the best of my ability, instead of thinking about the cramping of my wretched colon. By the time I'd finished the last 20 abdominal crunches-from-hell, I actually felt better than I had at the start of class. Perhaps the endorphins that started up when I began to sweat were putting out the colonic flames, but I don't know that for certain.
However, last night I was unable to sleep through the night because the cramps and diarreha began to take their toll, and I had to take one-fourth of a Percoset to get some rest and stop the pain this morning.
At any rate, I am proud of myself for not taking the easy way out, and staying at home with a heating pad on my belly. I went to exercise class to keep my promise to myself to be strong, and get stronger every day. I don't think the ghosts of my grandmothers would have it any other way.
Tuesday, December 25, 2007
Not Quite a Right Jolly Old Elf
Though my belly does still shake like a bowl full of jelly, unfortunately, I can't say that this has been a fabulous Christmas. So far, it has been quiet, which is a blessing, but due to financial strife all month, there was little money for gifts and I barely managed to get things for everyone on the list. My stress levels have been very high all month, and my Crohns has been flaring in response to that stress. Of course, I have also been terrible at resisting emotional eating and chowing on sweets, but I have kept up with my workouts despite illness and crazy weather and scheduling conflicts. Last Thursday it took my husband's vanpool THREE hours to get from Redmond to Maple Valley, and I couldn't make it to the gym because my son was ill, and they don't allow sick kids in the daycare. So there was that added frustration, and now my hubby is extremely ill, and barely able to make it out of bed to open presents today, so I am trying to make up for his non-existent holiday cheer by being extra attentive to my son, family and friends. I still am planning on a nice Christmas dinner of ham, mashed potatoes, corn and tofu-pumpkin pie for dessert.
Traffic has been insane in the whole SE King County area, and there was snow and sleet on the ground today. Because I do not like to drive anyway, the traffic conditions and rude drivers have only added to my stress levels. I actually ate two-thirds of a box of dark chocolate cordial cherries Monday night. I just could not stop eating them. My son was despondant, so I had to buy him his own box of milk chocolate cherries, which he ate in one day. Sigh. Nice job of passing on my bad habits there.
But I have avoided some of the more onerous holiday snacking, such as eating whole bottles of marachino cherries, or making sure that I make several dozen sugar cookies and eat at least a dozen myself. This year, Santa got chocolate mini-kiss cookies that I couldn't eat because they had eggs and dairy in them. And the cherries stayed on the shelf. So I figure if I have a small soy pudding later in the week, that will be okay, I will work that in to my calorie count for the day. And January, with its resolutions won't intimidate me this year, because I know that I can lose weight sensibly without starving. And one final note, my neighbor actually called me "buff" the other day! Ha! I don't consider myself Bruce Lee, but I do feel more toned and muscular than I have in 20 years.
Traffic has been insane in the whole SE King County area, and there was snow and sleet on the ground today. Because I do not like to drive anyway, the traffic conditions and rude drivers have only added to my stress levels. I actually ate two-thirds of a box of dark chocolate cordial cherries Monday night. I just could not stop eating them. My son was despondant, so I had to buy him his own box of milk chocolate cherries, which he ate in one day. Sigh. Nice job of passing on my bad habits there.
But I have avoided some of the more onerous holiday snacking, such as eating whole bottles of marachino cherries, or making sure that I make several dozen sugar cookies and eat at least a dozen myself. This year, Santa got chocolate mini-kiss cookies that I couldn't eat because they had eggs and dairy in them. And the cherries stayed on the shelf. So I figure if I have a small soy pudding later in the week, that will be okay, I will work that in to my calorie count for the day. And January, with its resolutions won't intimidate me this year, because I know that I can lose weight sensibly without starving. And one final note, my neighbor actually called me "buff" the other day! Ha! I don't consider myself Bruce Lee, but I do feel more toned and muscular than I have in 20 years.
Saturday, December 8, 2007
Coming off Cortisone
Greetings from upholstered belly central!
I finished my last round of antibiotics and my week of prednisone last week on Tuesday.
Now I just have to be patient and continue to exercise off the 4 pounds of fat and 5 pounds of water I gained while taking the steroids. I have to admit that I wasn't going to take the prednisone, but my asthma got so bad that I was having trouble breathing through the night, and kept waking up coughing and wheezing. The cortisone really helped my reactive airways and allowed the antibiotics to rout the rest of the pneumonia from the bottom of my lungs.
My PCP wasn't happy to hear, during my third visit, that I'd been exercising all month while battling the pneumonia. She felt I should have spent at least two weeks on bed rest. I didn't really feel the need for bed rest while I was sick, though, and I felt able to continue my regime of light/low impact workouts at least three times a week. I doubt that these workouts had any deleterious effects on my healing ability. In fact, I think they helped my immune system in dealing with the bacteria in my lungs.
I also think I would have gained three times more weight had I not continued with my work out routine. Especially considering the Thanksgiving holiday, my husband and sons birthdays were all food fests that I fully participated in, though I did try to limit my portions on Thanksgiving. Still, the soy chocolate/vanilla pudding and the Rice Dream peach non-dairy ice cream I've consumed in the past couple of weeks can't be blamed on the holidays...I just gave in to my cortisone-cravings for sugar.
Meanwhile, I've been assigned an article on three local gyms and their programs to help people lose weight and get in shape for the coming year. I'm really looking forward to talking to Janice Zander and Carol Kayler of Work It Out Women's Fitness, as I believe that WIO's boot camp and other new classes will be a good fit for many local women seeking a way to get in shape for 2008. I'll probably end up writing the story on Wednesday, Dec 12, which is my 47th birthday, but I am okay with that, as I really want to be paid as soon as possible so I can go Christmas shopping for my son, husband and parents. I am trying not to stress about the state of our finances, but I find myself wanting to do some serious emotional eating when I think about how tough Christmas is going to be this year.
Thank heaven for the endorphins and friends I have at Work It Out, because without them, I'd be an anxious mess.
I finished my last round of antibiotics and my week of prednisone last week on Tuesday.
Now I just have to be patient and continue to exercise off the 4 pounds of fat and 5 pounds of water I gained while taking the steroids. I have to admit that I wasn't going to take the prednisone, but my asthma got so bad that I was having trouble breathing through the night, and kept waking up coughing and wheezing. The cortisone really helped my reactive airways and allowed the antibiotics to rout the rest of the pneumonia from the bottom of my lungs.
My PCP wasn't happy to hear, during my third visit, that I'd been exercising all month while battling the pneumonia. She felt I should have spent at least two weeks on bed rest. I didn't really feel the need for bed rest while I was sick, though, and I felt able to continue my regime of light/low impact workouts at least three times a week. I doubt that these workouts had any deleterious effects on my healing ability. In fact, I think they helped my immune system in dealing with the bacteria in my lungs.
I also think I would have gained three times more weight had I not continued with my work out routine. Especially considering the Thanksgiving holiday, my husband and sons birthdays were all food fests that I fully participated in, though I did try to limit my portions on Thanksgiving. Still, the soy chocolate/vanilla pudding and the Rice Dream peach non-dairy ice cream I've consumed in the past couple of weeks can't be blamed on the holidays...I just gave in to my cortisone-cravings for sugar.
Meanwhile, I've been assigned an article on three local gyms and their programs to help people lose weight and get in shape for the coming year. I'm really looking forward to talking to Janice Zander and Carol Kayler of Work It Out Women's Fitness, as I believe that WIO's boot camp and other new classes will be a good fit for many local women seeking a way to get in shape for 2008. I'll probably end up writing the story on Wednesday, Dec 12, which is my 47th birthday, but I am okay with that, as I really want to be paid as soon as possible so I can go Christmas shopping for my son, husband and parents. I am trying not to stress about the state of our finances, but I find myself wanting to do some serious emotional eating when I think about how tough Christmas is going to be this year.
Thank heaven for the endorphins and friends I have at Work It Out, because without them, I'd be an anxious mess.
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
Breathing Through Pudding
I've now officially had pneumonia for a month. I've had to take nearly three rounds of antibiotics to kill the bacteria in my lungs, and though I am almost finished with this last round of Avelox, I still feel like I am breathing through pudding made of acid--my lungs hurt and it feels like my back has been pummeled. I've been working out at least 3 times a week anyway, just huffing and wheezing harder and trying to keep my heart rate from skyrocketing. Slowing down so much makes me feel like I'm 70 during my workouts, but I figure that its important to keep active so my immune system will kick in at some point. Plus, I over ate after Thanksgiving (I love leftovers!) so I know I won't reach my weight loss goals unless I keep pushing myself to gain muscle and lose fat.
Speaking of Thanksgiving, my nose was so stuffy that I couldn't smell or really taste much, except for discerning texture, so I did fairly well at dinner that day because I wasn't hungry enough to overeat...and food isn't as appetizing when you can't enjoy the aroma of it cooking.
But I daresay our guests for the afternoon feast, Bill K and Anita,his significant other, seemed to enjoy the repast and the company, though, compared to their fancy condo in Seattle, our humble abode must look like a slum.
While shopping for the feast, I was actually hit on by a very nice older guy (as in someone in his 50s) in the beer aisle of the grocery store. He advised me as to which beer is most appropriate for dining with my husbands former boss, and flirted shamelessly for several minutes. It was quite refreshing, considering no one has flirted with me for about 20 years.
My son Nick celebrated his 8th birthday this past weekend, and had a Pokemon cake with 'eyeball" marshmallow ice cream. The ugly chocolate "eyeballs" in the ice cream were much coveted by Nicks buddies. They all played games at Noobs in Covington and had a splendid time. Today is Nicks actual birth date, though, so I am going to bring cupcakes to his classroom and read them all a story or two. I find it hard to believe that 8 years have gone by since I felt that little boys big baby foot cut through my cervix in an effort to escape his now-dry womb...he was such a tiny little fellow, all of 3.5 pounds, but he was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen when they wrapped him up and showed me his sweet face. What a miracle he was, and is, now that he's a big, strapping 80 pound child. I have a great deal to be thankful for, and when all the financial woes of my family start to get me down, I try to remember that. I also try to remember that I have friends who have recently lost someone they love, or are about to lose someone they love, and so far, knock wood, I haven't lost my parents or any of my immediate family.
Fortune favors the bold, they say, but I think fortune also favors those who have compassion for their fellow humans and want to believe the best of everyone they meet.
Speaking of Thanksgiving, my nose was so stuffy that I couldn't smell or really taste much, except for discerning texture, so I did fairly well at dinner that day because I wasn't hungry enough to overeat...and food isn't as appetizing when you can't enjoy the aroma of it cooking.
But I daresay our guests for the afternoon feast, Bill K and Anita,his significant other, seemed to enjoy the repast and the company, though, compared to their fancy condo in Seattle, our humble abode must look like a slum.
While shopping for the feast, I was actually hit on by a very nice older guy (as in someone in his 50s) in the beer aisle of the grocery store. He advised me as to which beer is most appropriate for dining with my husbands former boss, and flirted shamelessly for several minutes. It was quite refreshing, considering no one has flirted with me for about 20 years.
My son Nick celebrated his 8th birthday this past weekend, and had a Pokemon cake with 'eyeball" marshmallow ice cream. The ugly chocolate "eyeballs" in the ice cream were much coveted by Nicks buddies. They all played games at Noobs in Covington and had a splendid time. Today is Nicks actual birth date, though, so I am going to bring cupcakes to his classroom and read them all a story or two. I find it hard to believe that 8 years have gone by since I felt that little boys big baby foot cut through my cervix in an effort to escape his now-dry womb...he was such a tiny little fellow, all of 3.5 pounds, but he was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen when they wrapped him up and showed me his sweet face. What a miracle he was, and is, now that he's a big, strapping 80 pound child. I have a great deal to be thankful for, and when all the financial woes of my family start to get me down, I try to remember that. I also try to remember that I have friends who have recently lost someone they love, or are about to lose someone they love, and so far, knock wood, I haven't lost my parents or any of my immediate family.
Fortune favors the bold, they say, but I think fortune also favors those who have compassion for their fellow humans and want to believe the best of everyone they meet.
Thursday, November 8, 2007
Craving the White Stuff
I'm on antibiotics for what my doctor tells me is a case of walking pneumonia, and I've been directed to taking more inhaled steroids and, if those don't work, oral cortisone, which I am loathe to ingest, because the side effects of having an appetite 24/7 and gaining 30 pounds or more tends to send me into a deep depression.
Ugh.
The winter lunger is a tradition with me, as I've had winter virus/flu/respiratory infections for as long as I've had asthma, which is about 42 years.
It's getting harder to get over these things as I get older, though, and doctors are not as good about helping out my tattered immune system with antibiotics as they used to be, mainly because of MRSA and other drug-resistant bacteria that are lurking around out there, killing off old folks, children and other immune-compromised people, like myself (I am taking azithioprine, a drug that depresses the immune system).
Oh, and before I forget, I'd like to set the record straight about something that could be misunderstood from previous posts. I do NOT hate Janice Zander,co-owner of Work It Out Womens fitness, easily one of the best gyms I've ever had the good fortune to attend.
Janice is a very tough and intense instructor, and, as such, somewhat frightening to those overstuffed with avoirdupois, like me. I'm not limber, nimble or agile, and I have a hard time with some of the moves she devises for her classes. I realise its all in the name of fitness, muscle building and health, and that there's no malice involved, but, being raised as the good midwestern child that I was, I am loathe to disappoint my teachers, and I hate feeling like a big fat plodding idiot, which is what often happens to me when I attempt moves that are beyond my physical limitations.
Yet I still take Janices classes and modify the moves I can't accomplish. Since Billie is still out with kidney infections, Janice is teaching her classes, and yesterdays balla and weights class was surprisingly easy...I assume because the lovely Marilee has bronchitis and I mentioned that I have pneumonia, and I can only assume Janice didn't want to have to call 911 for either one of us. So she mercifully kept it low impact, though we did a lot of reps during the weights portion of the class. Still, it was a manageable class that I enjoyed and was amazed to complete, crap-filled lungs and all. And Janice rocks!
I find that I tire more easily when my lungs are infected, and that it hurts to take a deep breath. I also find that inhaled steroids and antibiotics make me crave the white stuff--sugar, in copious amounts. I have this insatiable need for sweets, and, knowing it will end up on my belly, I have the opposite desire to not consume too much of it, lest I gain back all the weight I've worked so hard to lose. Of course my husband, who lost 15 pounds in three weeks just by giving up coke and exercising, hasn't gained an ounce back, even though he is back to eating fake cheeze products on crackers, beer nuts, chocolate milk and beer, with the occaisional peanut butter cup or chocolate brownie thrown in for good measure. And he doesn't gain it back! ARG!
How unfair is that? And his doctor told him today that she thinks he may just be able to go swimming a couple of times a week, stay away from cola and sweets, and not have to go on any type of diabetes medication for his insulin resistance. Again, how unfair! I think she should have told him he needs to exercise at least three times a week, and lay off the beer and crappy snacks completely. But no. He gets a get out of jail free card, while I'm working out 5 times a week and not losing a pound.
But today is Jims 47th birthday, so I suppose the man is entitled to a bit of good news. I just wish my body worked as well as his does at shedding weight and fighting off colds and infections. Men and their superior ability to gain muscle and lose weight really chaps my hide this time of year. I know that hubby will be able to overeat on Thanksgiving and Christmas with impunity, dagnabit.
Oh, well, there are some compensations to being female, I suppose. Being cleaner, softer and being able to produce wonderful people like my son Nick are but a few I could name.
Ugh.
The winter lunger is a tradition with me, as I've had winter virus/flu/respiratory infections for as long as I've had asthma, which is about 42 years.
It's getting harder to get over these things as I get older, though, and doctors are not as good about helping out my tattered immune system with antibiotics as they used to be, mainly because of MRSA and other drug-resistant bacteria that are lurking around out there, killing off old folks, children and other immune-compromised people, like myself (I am taking azithioprine, a drug that depresses the immune system).
Oh, and before I forget, I'd like to set the record straight about something that could be misunderstood from previous posts. I do NOT hate Janice Zander,co-owner of Work It Out Womens fitness, easily one of the best gyms I've ever had the good fortune to attend.
Janice is a very tough and intense instructor, and, as such, somewhat frightening to those overstuffed with avoirdupois, like me. I'm not limber, nimble or agile, and I have a hard time with some of the moves she devises for her classes. I realise its all in the name of fitness, muscle building and health, and that there's no malice involved, but, being raised as the good midwestern child that I was, I am loathe to disappoint my teachers, and I hate feeling like a big fat plodding idiot, which is what often happens to me when I attempt moves that are beyond my physical limitations.
Yet I still take Janices classes and modify the moves I can't accomplish. Since Billie is still out with kidney infections, Janice is teaching her classes, and yesterdays balla and weights class was surprisingly easy...I assume because the lovely Marilee has bronchitis and I mentioned that I have pneumonia, and I can only assume Janice didn't want to have to call 911 for either one of us. So she mercifully kept it low impact, though we did a lot of reps during the weights portion of the class. Still, it was a manageable class that I enjoyed and was amazed to complete, crap-filled lungs and all. And Janice rocks!
I find that I tire more easily when my lungs are infected, and that it hurts to take a deep breath. I also find that inhaled steroids and antibiotics make me crave the white stuff--sugar, in copious amounts. I have this insatiable need for sweets, and, knowing it will end up on my belly, I have the opposite desire to not consume too much of it, lest I gain back all the weight I've worked so hard to lose. Of course my husband, who lost 15 pounds in three weeks just by giving up coke and exercising, hasn't gained an ounce back, even though he is back to eating fake cheeze products on crackers, beer nuts, chocolate milk and beer, with the occaisional peanut butter cup or chocolate brownie thrown in for good measure. And he doesn't gain it back! ARG!
How unfair is that? And his doctor told him today that she thinks he may just be able to go swimming a couple of times a week, stay away from cola and sweets, and not have to go on any type of diabetes medication for his insulin resistance. Again, how unfair! I think she should have told him he needs to exercise at least three times a week, and lay off the beer and crappy snacks completely. But no. He gets a get out of jail free card, while I'm working out 5 times a week and not losing a pound.
But today is Jims 47th birthday, so I suppose the man is entitled to a bit of good news. I just wish my body worked as well as his does at shedding weight and fighting off colds and infections. Men and their superior ability to gain muscle and lose weight really chaps my hide this time of year. I know that hubby will be able to overeat on Thanksgiving and Christmas with impunity, dagnabit.
Oh, well, there are some compensations to being female, I suppose. Being cleaner, softer and being able to produce wonderful people like my son Nick are but a few I could name.
Saturday, November 3, 2007
Mercury Retrograde/Full Moon Mess
I don't know whether its the full moon or the oft-mentioned Mercury Retrograde (if you ken to astrology) that was at fault these past 10 days for all the things going wrong or painful lessons being learned, but I, for one, am praying that it has passed now. Please.
Here's what happened (not necessarily in this order):
My computer, that I'd only had for three weeks, died. It cost me $180 (thanks Adrian!) to fix it. I was planning on using that money for gifts for my huz and son, both of whom have November birthdays.
My mothers refrigerator died, and she was only able to find another side by side for over a thousand dollars. So her holiday and birthday budget was compromised as well.
Halloween happened and I have no will power when it comes to candy corn. I must have eaten at least a cup of those triangular sugar bombs.
I caught the lung crud that has been going around and coughed up my lungs every night, so I didn't get much sleep. My favorite instructor, Billie, had the same thing, but also ended up with a kidney infection that has her doctors threatening her with the hospital if she doesn't take it easy and just teach her aerobics classes without breaking a sweat herself. I haven't been able to get an appointment with my doctor until doomsday, so I will either have to shake this thing myself or go to the urgent care, which is always a bummer, because you end up spending all day in the waiting room. Due to my lungs feeling like they were on fire, I didn't get to work out Monday, Tuesday or Wednesday, so I had to do double workouts on Thursday and Friday and Saturday. I plan to take a family trail walk on Sunday.
I had a telephone interview for a position I was told was telecommuting/freelance that turned out to be anything but, and I wasted a whole day preparing for it.
I washed something red in with other clothing and turned a bunch of stuff pink, including a stripped shirt of my sons...he actually thought I'd done it on purpose, but he was okay with the cotton candy coloring, which is slightly disturbing from a taste standpoint.
I broke several dishes, a pitcher, the lip of my lap desk, and three ponytail holders.
My husband was laid off from his very good job on Friday. His company didn't get the contracts they thought they were going to get, and subsequently can't afford a full editorial dept, so they laid off Jim and another editor. And he has to work through next week, during his birthday, and suffer through a goodbye party when he's the kind of guy who hates crowds. I think they should give him a birthday bash and a huge severence package. He will get some severence, but not much, as he's only been there a year. Hopefully, he will get contract work soon. Our sons birthday, mine, Thanksgiving and Christmas are all coming up, and we'll be strapped for cash, again. Oy.
I took a belly dancing class last night, which was, as Beth warned me, WAYYYYY harder than it looked, and I realized that I have all the grace and coordination of a water buffalo. Undulation is just beyond me.
I gained 5 pounds and then lost 3. So I am still two pounds up from where I was about 3-4 weeks ago, but I am hoping to get back on track this month and lose another 4-6 pounds. I will have to stay away from Naan bread, Rice Dream peach pie "ice cream" and their ginger cookie version, too. I am betting I need to keep paws off the "Tings" as well. I've been baaad.
Two zits appeared on my face this week...why, I don't know...stress, maybe?
The lovely libran belly dancing instructor, who told us she's "near 60" looks younger than I do, and she's a total hottie. She is in flawless shape, and can move in such a sexy and sinuous manner that I am sure most men would be drooling on her toes after being in her presence for 5 minutes. She was a delight to talk to, and I thoroughly enjoyed her class, though I sort of waddled my way through it, but I don't think I have the gene that allows my hips to slide and shimmy in such a seductive fashion. I plod and thump about like an old badger. Still, it was enriching and invigorating to give the class a try. I wish I could afford to go again.
Which brings us to money, and my lack thereof. I haven't a clue how I am going to find money for birthdays and holidays. I need a monetary miracle, or cash-flow feng shui.
One happy thing that I heard from Carol Kayler was that Lori, one of my fellow boot campers, got back from her trip to Ethiopia, where she lost 20 pounds, due to that country's lack of sugar (a sugar free country? However do they manage?), Starbucks, and any kind of junk food. This news had everyone within hearing planning trips to Africa.
Another good idea was reading Victoria Moran's "Lit From Within" which was a joyful book full of positive ideas and wonderful words of wisdom on leading a light-filled existence, and being the beautiful woman you were meant to be. I highly recomend the book, though I do not agree with everything in it. Still, I passed it along to my friend Janine. I hope she enjoys it as much as I did.
Here's what happened (not necessarily in this order):
My computer, that I'd only had for three weeks, died. It cost me $180 (thanks Adrian!) to fix it. I was planning on using that money for gifts for my huz and son, both of whom have November birthdays.
My mothers refrigerator died, and she was only able to find another side by side for over a thousand dollars. So her holiday and birthday budget was compromised as well.
Halloween happened and I have no will power when it comes to candy corn. I must have eaten at least a cup of those triangular sugar bombs.
I caught the lung crud that has been going around and coughed up my lungs every night, so I didn't get much sleep. My favorite instructor, Billie, had the same thing, but also ended up with a kidney infection that has her doctors threatening her with the hospital if she doesn't take it easy and just teach her aerobics classes without breaking a sweat herself. I haven't been able to get an appointment with my doctor until doomsday, so I will either have to shake this thing myself or go to the urgent care, which is always a bummer, because you end up spending all day in the waiting room. Due to my lungs feeling like they were on fire, I didn't get to work out Monday, Tuesday or Wednesday, so I had to do double workouts on Thursday and Friday and Saturday. I plan to take a family trail walk on Sunday.
I had a telephone interview for a position I was told was telecommuting/freelance that turned out to be anything but, and I wasted a whole day preparing for it.
I washed something red in with other clothing and turned a bunch of stuff pink, including a stripped shirt of my sons...he actually thought I'd done it on purpose, but he was okay with the cotton candy coloring, which is slightly disturbing from a taste standpoint.
I broke several dishes, a pitcher, the lip of my lap desk, and three ponytail holders.
My husband was laid off from his very good job on Friday. His company didn't get the contracts they thought they were going to get, and subsequently can't afford a full editorial dept, so they laid off Jim and another editor. And he has to work through next week, during his birthday, and suffer through a goodbye party when he's the kind of guy who hates crowds. I think they should give him a birthday bash and a huge severence package. He will get some severence, but not much, as he's only been there a year. Hopefully, he will get contract work soon. Our sons birthday, mine, Thanksgiving and Christmas are all coming up, and we'll be strapped for cash, again. Oy.
I took a belly dancing class last night, which was, as Beth warned me, WAYYYYY harder than it looked, and I realized that I have all the grace and coordination of a water buffalo. Undulation is just beyond me.
I gained 5 pounds and then lost 3. So I am still two pounds up from where I was about 3-4 weeks ago, but I am hoping to get back on track this month and lose another 4-6 pounds. I will have to stay away from Naan bread, Rice Dream peach pie "ice cream" and their ginger cookie version, too. I am betting I need to keep paws off the "Tings" as well. I've been baaad.
Two zits appeared on my face this week...why, I don't know...stress, maybe?
The lovely libran belly dancing instructor, who told us she's "near 60" looks younger than I do, and she's a total hottie. She is in flawless shape, and can move in such a sexy and sinuous manner that I am sure most men would be drooling on her toes after being in her presence for 5 minutes. She was a delight to talk to, and I thoroughly enjoyed her class, though I sort of waddled my way through it, but I don't think I have the gene that allows my hips to slide and shimmy in such a seductive fashion. I plod and thump about like an old badger. Still, it was enriching and invigorating to give the class a try. I wish I could afford to go again.
Which brings us to money, and my lack thereof. I haven't a clue how I am going to find money for birthdays and holidays. I need a monetary miracle, or cash-flow feng shui.
One happy thing that I heard from Carol Kayler was that Lori, one of my fellow boot campers, got back from her trip to Ethiopia, where she lost 20 pounds, due to that country's lack of sugar (a sugar free country? However do they manage?), Starbucks, and any kind of junk food. This news had everyone within hearing planning trips to Africa.
Another good idea was reading Victoria Moran's "Lit From Within" which was a joyful book full of positive ideas and wonderful words of wisdom on leading a light-filled existence, and being the beautiful woman you were meant to be. I highly recomend the book, though I do not agree with everything in it. Still, I passed it along to my friend Janine. I hope she enjoys it as much as I did.
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