Downtown Debbie Downer

The two focal points of my daily/weekly schedule are now on hold. Yesterday was my last day of work and this morning was my last weigh-in until August.

Not gonna lie, I'm bummed. And scared. Very very scared.

A week from Monday I go under the knife and then proceed to sit for the following three months. Not going to work every day and not going to my meeting every week is going to be rough because I will miss a lot of people that I like interacting with on a frequent basis.

Recovery will mean a lot of time alone, sat on my ass. The appeal of this will wear off in the first few days, I can almost guarantee. It seems strange to some, but a lot of fat chicks (and fat guys, too) aren't the sedentary sloths they are made out to be by the media and stereotypes. I, for one, do not sit around eating bon bons and shitty food while watching shitty tv night after night. I don't snack after dinner is over, and I'm not afraid of physical activity early in the morning (Dear YMCA, I miss you. Love, Lesley). Even with my stupid ankle problems, I still walked to and from work every day (except for one morning when I was seriously behind schedule). Half the time I needed my cane to do it, but I still did that 20 minute hike twice a day. Yes, it hurt, but goddamn it, I needed it. I miss my early morning workouts and can't wait until I can get in the pool again. And I will so miss my two walks a day while I heal up.

I am curious to see how the whole weight thing plays out while I'm down. It will be a pretty strictly controlled food schedule and since someone else will be doing my shopping for me, it's all public. I think this will be a good thing, because goddamn, that's accountability right there. My dad isn't about to load me up with shit food and turn a blind eye. No way.

The real kicker (no pun intended) is that I will have no idea what's happening numbers-wise. Thanks to zero weight tolerance and a huge cast on my leg, I won't physically be able to stand on the scale. I'll only have an idea by the way I'm feeling (and if you know anything about me, you'll know that's absolutely no help because I totally suck at interpreting my lose/gain situation week to week).

So, here we go. Off the books and onto healing and recovery next week. This should be a good read for all you regulars, because you'll be able to chart my descent into Colonel Kurtz madness. And when I get hauled off to jail for pinging off asshole cyclists riding on the sidewalk with my sling shot, you can shake your head and mutter with complete confidence "I totally saw that coming."

peace oot
LB