Life happens... this we know. As I sit and type my first blog entry in well over a month I’m reminded of the terrible pain I struggled with a short while ago; injury and bad decisions halted my weight loss. My emotions have ranged from self pity, guilt, depression and just enough determination to keep pushing. After losing a significant amount of weight last year, the fear of heading back in the wrong direction loomed over me like a cloud of rain. Despite my fears I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that there were still more than a few days that I fed my sorrows by stuffing anything I could find in my mouth to comfort my worried soul and injured body.
It’s safe to say that 2016 didn’t begin as I had planned. I was eager to drop more unwanted pounds and continue lifting weights to build my strength and grow some real muscle. My very last blog post was dedicated to taking the steps to get my mojo back after our auto accident in January. I suffered a painful rotator cuff injury and broken wrist on my left arm in the accident. Despite the injury I was determined to pick the momentum back up and continue my fitness journey. I’m still not sure if it was my zeal to give it my all or my bodies way of telling me too much too soon but my injured left side gained an alley to aide in my misery, an old tailbone injury returned with a vengeance.
After a week of working out full throttle I noticed I felt particularly stiff, I continued on despite this feeling with a vigorous workout and by bedtime I knew something was terribly wrong. I know now that my sore tailbone was further aggravated by a heavy set of deadlifts. As I tossed and turned through the night it soon became clear that this was no ordinary pain. Simply turning in bed was excruciatingly painful. After a full day of work, standing from a seated position became unbearable and I could barely lift my leg into my SUV at the end of the work day. As I lay on my bed with a heating pad stuck in my underwear the feelings of defeat crept up on me once again. One evening as I headed to the bathroom I caught a glimpse of my darkened silhouette in the bathroom mirror. Between my tailbone, which caused me to limp painfully about; my sore shoulder which I unknowingly hiked a good inch above the opposite shoulder and held at my side I couldn’t help but notice how my pitiful stance resembled that of the Hunch Back of Notre Dame. Medication offered no relief from the pain, it just caused me to sleep and I added a cherry on top of this disaster by following through on a “minor surgery” that had been scheduled a month prior. Not only wasn’t it minor, the healing process was slow, in short- I was a hot mess!
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| I dreaded every workout until I got it done |
I remember sitting on my couch treating my wounds as I apologized to my body for demanding so much of it before it was ready and adding insult to injury with this surgical procedure. Everyday seemed to be a struggle to push through until bed time, just getting through my work day was exhausting. Thank goodness I had a understanding manager that allowed me the option to work from home for a period of time. The breaking point came when I was referred to a physical therapist by my physician after my wrist splint was removed. On my first day of therapy I explained to Julie, my physical therapist, how I tried to get on all fours and perform a basic cat stretch but was unable to bear the weight on my wrist. Then it happened, like a crack in a dam that was ready to burst, the tears of frustration flowed down my face. I tried to hold them and I recall mumbling “I never cry, I don’t know why I’m getting emotional”. I thought I could swallow the lump in my throat but it only served to make the necessity to cry all the more real. I felt defeated, at 43 years old I was embarking on the best level of fitness I’d ever obtained in my life. I felt as if all my hard work was slipping away. Until January 18th, 2016 I felt powerful, in control and alive and these injuries along with my choices were threatening to encase me in the fat suit I’d spent the past year trying to escape. I went from doing full body push ups to being so weak I couldn't manage a damn cat stretch. I can admit I was afraid of gaining weight, but also terrified of pushing past the pain of the past month.
Julie, my petite therapist, sat quietly and allowed me a moment to express my fear of gaining weight, my hard work and my desperate need to get in the gym. After handing me tissue she placed both hands firmly on the table in between us, looked me in the eyes and she simply stated “we’re going to make you strong again”. I took a deep breath, those tears were so much more than just the pain. I feared letting myself down but I believed in her and that's what I needed to began my road to recovery. After that moment we rehearsed the barrage of daily movements Julie wanted me to perform in order to reduce the tightness in my body so we could then begin gaining strength. Just like eating and breathing I practiced those movements several times a day knowing they were the key to getting myself back. I still have bad days, tightness and a twinge of pain but I'm committed to the movements that provide me relief knowing that I'm back in control of my body. Julie gave me the keys to get back on track and for that she's an angel. I'm so thankful I was placed in her care.
Julie, my petite therapist, sat quietly and allowed me a moment to express my fear of gaining weight, my hard work and my desperate need to get in the gym. After handing me tissue she placed both hands firmly on the table in between us, looked me in the eyes and she simply stated “we’re going to make you strong again”. I took a deep breath, those tears were so much more than just the pain. I feared letting myself down but I believed in her and that's what I needed to began my road to recovery. After that moment we rehearsed the barrage of daily movements Julie wanted me to perform in order to reduce the tightness in my body so we could then begin gaining strength. Just like eating and breathing I practiced those movements several times a day knowing they were the key to getting myself back. I still have bad days, tightness and a twinge of pain but I'm committed to the movements that provide me relief knowing that I'm back in control of my body. Julie gave me the keys to get back on track and for that she's an angel. I'm so thankful I was placed in her care.
So here I am, one pound less than I was on New Years day. I managed to drop five pounds in a matter of weeks. One thing that kept me somewhat on track is I did have the sense of mind to order a few weeks of BistroMD in an effort to gain control of my eating which took a bad turn during my down time. I’m back to exercising with very controlled movements and lifting nothing over 8lbs on my left arm/wrist, doctors orders. I'm also back to my weekly meal prep. Am I frustrated about the past few months, most definitely. I’ve been my own worse critic, but I realize how much my body needs endorphins each time I’m forced to limit or refrain from exercise. Exercise keeps my ADD brain on track, improves my mood and provides me with an incredible sense of power and strength. It may have taken me to be fully deprived to really embrace that I'm in this for life. Fitness is not a 90 day fix, it's an absolute privilege.
I thank God for healing. I'm also very thankful for my angel Julie and above all else my strong, capable body. I folded, but dammit...I'm back!!!
