Get up.

Sometimes life makes it way too easy to give up on something like this.  It throws you a curve ball, and erring on the side of caution is the easiest way to give up without admitting outright that you're doing just that.  Mind you, that's not the case in ALL situations, but man, it can make it easy.

Today, it would have been easy to sit back and let another day go by without going to the gym.  I'm pleased to say that hasn't been the case too often these days, but today would have been understandable (read: easy).

About 2 or so years ago, my left knee started to click.  Not just the odd click here and there, it's an audible snap every time I take a step. It's to the point where it's referred to as "the bell around my neck" because it's so loud, it's impossible to creep up on anyone. Lucky me, I get to hear it on both the outside AND the inside.  Plainly put: it's fucking gross.

I was referred to a new orthopedic surgeon while I still lived in London, and since it didn't hurt, he decided not to do anything about it for the time being.  This was after 6+ months of physiotherapy (my poor PT, she was totally stumped), of course.

Then, earlier this year, it started to hurt.  Not only was there pain, the repetitive snap grew louder and louder.  In April, I made the trip down to London to talk to my GP about it, and I was referred a new orthopedic surgeon closer to where I now live, and I was told to get a new set of Xrays so that the new doctor could compare them with the ones I had taken previously.

That was fine and dandy, except for one thing:  The new xrays came back completely clean.  None of the bi-compartmental osteoarthritis that had been there a year earlier, none of the patello-femoral issues.  Nothing. Zip. Zilch. Nada.

My GP scratched her head and basically said "what the hell is up with THAT?!?", and I was immediately referred for an MRI to get to the bottom of things.  4 months later, I had the MRI and today I got the result.

There is, in fact, something wrong with my knee.  More than one thing, actually. Now it's tri-compartmental osteoarthritis, with a torn ACL thrown in for good measure. I feel less crazy, now.  I feel less stupid and worried that I was imagining everything.  I feel almost vindicated.

Now, the next wait will be to see a new orthopedic surgeon.  The dude I was referred to back in April still hasn't even booked my appointment.  Seriously.  Over 5 months to even get booked in?  Get over yourself, asshole.  I hope they can find me someone else, because I don't want to drag this out any longer than extremely necessary.

Even with all of this craziness today, even with a head and chest cold, I still went to the gym.  As I did, sick as a dog, on Friday and Saturday night. 

My point is: no matter what, get up.  Life's knocking the shit out of you?  Get up. GET. UP.   It's worth it.  You're worth it.  Just, get up.  Even when the easiest thing would be to lay down, get up. 

Trust me.

XO
LB

It was August, and I crushed it.

Yes, I am here! And the battle rages on!

I made it to the gym 4 times last week, and this week I received my first round of circuit training from my super awesome trainer.  It nearly killed me when I went through it the first night (3 times, I thought I might die toward the end), which did not really surprise me.  I'm a stranger in a strange land, and my legs were protesting the whole way through.

I noticed something as we worked in front of the huge mirror for part of it.  Through those parts of it, confronted with what I was seeing, my eyes were automatically looking toward the ceiling or the floor.  I wouldn't look at myself.

Really, it felt so silly, I was totally aware that I was avoiding myself.  Even if I did take a glance, it was not at my face.  I wouldn't look myself in the eye.  After I was finished, I tried to rationalize it to myself, but I honestly couldn't. I did look at my legs, my gut, my feet (my shoes are very hard to ignore, after all, they're bright pink).  But looking myself in the eye was pretty much impossible.

Maybe it went with the old idea that we're our own worst enemies, but even that doesn't really explain it.  Would I laugh at myself?  Would I point and criticize myself?  Not in any serious way. The root cause is a mystery to me, and I know it will probably happen again.  But it really doesn't matter because as long as I'm doing what I'm supposed to be doing, it's alright.

My attendance at the gym hasn't been as great this week, but that's a scheduling thing.  I've actually been missing it, and I was pretty stoked that my trainer thinks the amount of cardio I do is "insanely impressive".  What?!? FOR REALS?!?  Well then, I shall carry on being awesome.

I have started keeping track of my trips over to the gym.  Big, black check marks of achievement. At the end of each month, I'll take a photo of what I have achieved.  Here's what August looked like (taking into consideration that the newest era of this war started on August 18th), I'm pretty proud of it:

Not too shabby for a beginner, as far as I'm concerned.  

Onward, always onward.

xo
LB

The Confusing Realm of Actually Doing.

It's a strange feeling, i must admit. It has been over 20 years since I was at my healthy weight. Over 2 decades. It's really no surprise that I have no recollection of how it feels. So much has happened since then, it's almost like that feeling has been overwritten. Completely taped over.

Right now, I'm sitting here at my boyfriend's band practice, kicked back in a recliner while operating the 6 track recorder. I can feel all my excess weight, and I can see a good portion of it. It's no longer upsetting, I know it's there. but now, I know I'm actually doing something about it. I made it to the gym 4 times this week. I'm pretty fucking proud of that.

What I find interesting is that I don't know what to expect as I lose this fat and slowly change shape. I try to think of what clothes I'll finally be able to wear. What it will feel like without my big gut. What it will feel like to be strong. It's all a huge mystery. But, even with that mystery, it's exciting as hell.

Yes, I am aware that it's going to take years. I don't really care about that, though. It's just nice to know that positive change is happening, and it's proving to be an integral tool in keeping the depression at bay.

I'm focused. I'm doin' it. I got this.

xo

LB