My alarm went off for yoga. When I had problems rolling over to shut it off and then had to use the bedpost to stand up in order to get to the bathroom, I figured I probably couldn't make it from the car to the door of the yoga studio, so I went back to bed, hoping to rest it off a bit more.
When I got up later, I realized that finishing the house for our party was NOT going to happen with me in the state I was in. I called Kaiser to set up an appointment.
They don't take appointments on New Year's Eve. They only offer urgent care.
Here's how much fun it is to have Kaiser (don't get me wrong, I'm grateful I HAVE insurance, but still this is ridiculous).
10:00am Urgent care opens
10:15am I arrive at Urgent Care and take a number.
My number is 40. They are on 10.
The number determines the order that you get to speak to the triage nurse, who determines who needs to be treated first and if there are any labs that can be done in the meanwhile.
11:20am My number is called to speak to the triage nurse (note: this is 65 minutes after I arrived--thank goodness I wasn't puking).
11:22am Triage nurse sends me to the receptionist, where I have to make a $35 copay, since it's Urgent Care instead of my regular $15 copay when it's not. Argh.
11:55am Physician's Assistant calls me back, weighs me, blood pressure, and asks, to my surprise, if I'm still not smoking. I tell her I don't smoke at all, and she says, "Good for you sticking with it." I then tell her I've never smoked ANYTHING in my life (since inhaling fumes from the kitchen fire doesn't count in my book). She told me my health record indicates that I'm a "former" smoker. I again stress that I have NEVER smoked anything, EVER. She said she'd update my record, but I have to say it concerns me as to how that got there in the first place.
12:00pm Doctor visits me. Actually really liked her as she was very sympathetic and flat out said, "What medication will help you most?" (I'd explained that neither Tramadol, which gave me headaches, or Vicodin, which doesn't help me, don't work). I told her I didn't like the idea of asking for medication, but Percoset helped in the past to get me over the wall when I'm acute like this.
12:02pm Take prescription to pharmacy then go over to the lab for overdue bloodwork.
12:05pm Get bloodwork done
12:15pm Get prescription and leave.
Grand total of 2 hours, of which 100 minutes were spent waiting--the first 65 of which probably could have been avoided if they'd had an efficient triage nurse. (She was very nice, just VERY slow.)
Came home, took drugs, laid down. At 4:00 my husband woke me and asked if I was going to work on the house.
Went into panic mode. This means that instead of cleaning, I bulldozed junk into a couple of rooms we decided to close off.
House looked better than it has in ages (with the exception of the bulldoze pits) and we had a great time.
Friday, December 31, 2010
Thursday, December 30, 2010
House Progress, Back Digress
Got a lot of work done on the house, and in particular my daughter's room today. Unfortunately I'm afraid that getting the mattress and boxspring out of the storage space in the garage worked a number on my back as it got stiffer and stiffer through the day.
I caved and took Tramadol again.
It did nothing for my back.
It did something for my head. I got a headache. Ugh.
Then as I was running around the house cleaning and organizing, my husband finally said, "If you need me to do something for you, just ask."
I didn't because
1) He had things of his own to do and
2) Then I would be doing nothing and our party is tomorrow and you can't walk through the house or sit anywhere and I would go insane sitting still.
3) I couldn't figure out why he said that. So I asked.
His response? "Because I'm tired of listening to you moan and groan all over the place."
Oh.
I finally gave up and went to bed on the thought that I would go to yoga in the morning anyway. Besides, I was hoping I could sleep off my painkillers-that-didn't-work headache.
I caved and took Tramadol again.
It did nothing for my back.
It did something for my head. I got a headache. Ugh.
Then as I was running around the house cleaning and organizing, my husband finally said, "If you need me to do something for you, just ask."
I didn't because
1) He had things of his own to do and
2) Then I would be doing nothing and our party is tomorrow and you can't walk through the house or sit anywhere and I would go insane sitting still.
3) I couldn't figure out why he said that. So I asked.
His response? "Because I'm tired of listening to you moan and groan all over the place."
Oh.
I finally gave up and went to bed on the thought that I would go to yoga in the morning anyway. Besides, I was hoping I could sleep off my painkillers-that-didn't-work headache.
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
Bikram Yoga, Day 8
Getting up earlier is getting easier; my whole body is shifting schedule. Unfortunately that schedule doesn't work so well for the whole family in the evening, but hopefully I can adjust my daughter to going to bed earlier too because she needs to.
Today my little piece of progress at yoga was that during Eagle pose I was able to just barely get my fingers in between each other (I had been just grabbing my thumbs).
The rest of the day was spent painting my daughter's room. I had to have it done before my husband got home so that he could lay down the new floor so that we can move her stuff back in her room so that we can clean things up to be ready for the party that we're having for New Year's.
We're hosed.
Today my little piece of progress at yoga was that during Eagle pose I was able to just barely get my fingers in between each other (I had been just grabbing my thumbs).
The rest of the day was spent painting my daughter's room. I had to have it done before my husband got home so that he could lay down the new floor so that we can move her stuff back in her room so that we can clean things up to be ready for the party that we're having for New Year's.
We're hosed.
Monday, December 27, 2010
Bikram Yoga, Day 7
I can really feel the difference in my back between 1 day off and 2 days off between yoga sessions. I just can't put that much space in or I start feeling like I need pain medication again.
Even though we do the same routine every time, I still haven't memorized it yet. I can't get over though how much more quickly class goes than my first one. I'm just breathing and trying to make it through and all of a sudden we're in the last of the seated poses and I'm amazed we're almost done.
I am finally reaching around my foot in the seated head to knee pose. Well, at least with my outside hand. The inside hand doesn't quite go because both the abdominal excess and flexibility, but I'm closer now.
I have got to get pictures of these poses soon since I'm making progress.
Even though we do the same routine every time, I still haven't memorized it yet. I can't get over though how much more quickly class goes than my first one. I'm just breathing and trying to make it through and all of a sudden we're in the last of the seated poses and I'm amazed we're almost done.
I am finally reaching around my foot in the seated head to knee pose. Well, at least with my outside hand. The inside hand doesn't quite go because both the abdominal excess and flexibility, but I'm closer now.
I have got to get pictures of these poses soon since I'm making progress.
Saturday, December 25, 2010
DRIVEeatMERRYCHRISTMASpresentsDRIVEeatMERRYCHRISTMASpresentsDRIVEeatMERRYCHRISTMASpresentsDRIVEsleep
Our Christmas traditions have changed over the years, but since we've been married, they've been pretty much the same. After our very French Christmas eve, we sleep for a few hours, then drive for an hour to get to my Dad's, where we have Christmas breakfast, open stockings and presents, and then lounge for a bit before heading over to my aunt's (about a 40 minute drive), where we have an early (4:00) dinner, open presents, then drive another half hour to my uncle's (other side of the family), where we have birthday cake for my cousin, and do a cousin gift exchange, then drive home (another 45 minutes or so).
It makes for a very long day on very little sleep.
As indicated in my last post, we were able to get more sleep this year, but not for the happiest of reasons.
This year we had to pick up my grandmother as the family is attempting to drive her places rather than let her do the driving. That's a whole long story in itself and this isn't the best place to go into. Anyway, we were elected to pick her up.
We were actually (oddly) running on time when my cell phone rang in the car. My dad was calling--my grandmother was apparently very distressed that we weren't there yet (30 minutes before we were supposed to be there) AND that we weren't answering our phone (which was at home, so therefore not possible to answer if we were on our way).
We got there, right on time, and picked her up.
My grandmother is a pretty amazing woman. She worked for three different governors of the state of Oregon and is not someone you want to have on your bad side when it comes to pulling political power. She's 88, still active in her church, and physically active as well. Since I was a little girl though (and probably since before then), she's had a habit of "patting" people fairly forcefully.
When I was six, this resulted in me being pushed unaware and unable to lift my foot over a step on time, making me crash face first into the pavement. One of my teeth turned gray--fortunately it was a baby tooth. Her comment? "You need to be more careful, dear!"
And as I got older, I learned to set down any beverage glass I was holding because when Grandma came in for a hug, it would inevitably get toppled and I would be told, "Oh goodness, you need to be more careful, dear!"
As I greeted her at her front door, she leaned in for a hug and I literally had to grab the door frame to keep from falling down her front steps. Add that to being unable to take the pressure of much weight because of my back and I was left gasping for breath.
Some things never change.
We loaded up the car with Grandma and her presents and drove over to my dad's.
The rest of the day went fairly normally--visiting with relatives, little kids having more fun ripping open presents than playing with what was inside (and then asking, "Can I open more presents, please?....PLEASE....PLEEEEEASE!!")
We got home, unloaded my daughter's loot, and crashed.
It makes for a very long day on very little sleep.
As indicated in my last post, we were able to get more sleep this year, but not for the happiest of reasons.
This year we had to pick up my grandmother as the family is attempting to drive her places rather than let her do the driving. That's a whole long story in itself and this isn't the best place to go into. Anyway, we were elected to pick her up.
We were actually (oddly) running on time when my cell phone rang in the car. My dad was calling--my grandmother was apparently very distressed that we weren't there yet (30 minutes before we were supposed to be there) AND that we weren't answering our phone (which was at home, so therefore not possible to answer if we were on our way).
We got there, right on time, and picked her up.
My grandmother is a pretty amazing woman. She worked for three different governors of the state of Oregon and is not someone you want to have on your bad side when it comes to pulling political power. She's 88, still active in her church, and physically active as well. Since I was a little girl though (and probably since before then), she's had a habit of "patting" people fairly forcefully.
When I was six, this resulted in me being pushed unaware and unable to lift my foot over a step on time, making me crash face first into the pavement. One of my teeth turned gray--fortunately it was a baby tooth. Her comment? "You need to be more careful, dear!"
And as I got older, I learned to set down any beverage glass I was holding because when Grandma came in for a hug, it would inevitably get toppled and I would be told, "Oh goodness, you need to be more careful, dear!"
As I greeted her at her front door, she leaned in for a hug and I literally had to grab the door frame to keep from falling down her front steps. Add that to being unable to take the pressure of much weight because of my back and I was left gasping for breath.
Some things never change.
We loaded up the car with Grandma and her presents and drove over to my dad's.
The rest of the day went fairly normally--visiting with relatives, little kids having more fun ripping open presents than playing with what was inside (and then asking, "Can I open more presents, please?....PLEASE....PLEEEEEASE!!")
We got home, unloaded my daughter's loot, and crashed.
Friday, December 24, 2010
Bikram Yoga, Day 6
I had originally intended to go to the late class and try to finish pictures of my postures afterward, but with everything I had to do today, decided the early class would be better.
For once, I planned ahead. Too bad it was because I'd procrastinated so many other things that I was forced to.
I'm still feeling change in my yoga poses with every class. They may be miniscule, but for me it's nice to be able to feel progress--especially since I never seemed to be able to make progress in physical therapy (with Kaiser anyway).
The only downside is that now I'm debating whether I should take pictures in my poses as I can do them now, or whether I should go back to where I was. I'll figure it out on another day when I have more time.
I spent the day scrambling and wrapping presents. My husband went up to the mountain to play in the snow.
Our Christmas eve tradition as a couple is FABULOUS. His best friend is French, and I will refer to him as "G" for this. G and his wife put on the most incredible dinner. Usually it is just their family that is invited--and us. I totally married in to an awesome invitation on that one.
Usually the festivities start around 6:00, we socialize for a bit, and then around 7:00 we start in the Christmas-decorated living room with a Champagne toast, complete with some kind of delicacy (imported cheese, truffles--the mushroom kind, olives, and oysters have been a few). Then we meander into the dining room where we have multiple courses up to the main course of lamb. This is followed by (forgive my atrocious French spelling if I mangle it) True Normand, a few more courses, and then at midnight we return to the living room, and open presents. After presents we go back to the dining room, have the Bouche Noel (Yule log) dessert, and then a coffee course.
In all, about a 10 course meal.
Did I mention that nearly every course has a wine specially chosen to match it? Not that my husband or I drink, but on occasion we have sampled them. I, unfortunately, do not have a sophisticated enough palette to appreciate it and usually just refuse now, insisting that they not waste any on me and let someone who will enjoy it have it instead. G still tries, every year, saying, "You just don't like wine because you haven't found one you like yet."
The True Normand is a sorbet and apple brandy. This I happily partake of, even though I'm still teased because I once referred to it as the "stomach bomb."
In my defense, when I asked what it was the first year, it was explained to me that the combination of these specific ingredients has an effect on your digestion that essentially clears room in your stomach so you can keep eating, even though you were full moments before. I SWEAR that G said to me that first year (in his French accent), "Eez like a bome een your stomach." (It's like a bomb in your stomach.) Whether or not he said that, it's what I remember, so the next year, I asked if we were having the stomach bomb and no one knew what I was talking about.
Now they all know and tease me.
Anyway, this is our tradition for Christmas eve--usually we get home about 2:00am, sleep for a few hours, then leave the house by 8:00am to get to my dad's.
This year was different.
G's daughter, who is only 6, has been in the hospital for two weeks, much of it in intensive care. The doctors aren't completely sure what's wrong (and in the interests of their privacy, I won't go into the few details I do know), but she hasn't been able to keep her fever down for more than 48 hours so they won't release her yet.
We (my husband and I) first found out a few days after she was initially admitted. We were told that Christmas eve would be cancelled. The only (selfish) good thing out of this is that it would mean we could sleep before our Christmas day traditions (three parties to go to and about 120 miles of driving).
We found out that the hospital granted G's daughter a 7-hour leave for the Christmas eve celebrations, which they bumped to late afternoon instead of evening.
It was quieter and more subdued. G's daughter stayed in their bedroom on the bed, having stories read to her by her uncle, and we went in, one at a time, to say hello and let her open presents.
Poor kid was weak and in pain. She hurt too much to stay for the celebrations, so G's wife and brother-in-law took her back to the hospital after only a couple of hours.
We still had the rest of the party with G, his parents, and his wife's dad. My daughter and G's son (they're only 4 months apart) had fun playing together.
G came up to me at one point, frantic. "Do you know what the bows are?" Apparently he got a call from his wife at the hospital. I'd given their daughter a frame with her name in it, which had a whole bunch of hair bows hanging from it. She liked it and was demanding it be brought to her at the hospital.
I'd initially felt a little bad because this year our budget forced us to do a number of homemade gifts, but at least one of them was a hit. Probably the most important one, considering how much not fun Christmas in the hospital is for a kid.
We ONLY had a six-course meal this year (no True Normand), and as I was once again refusing the wine on grounds that it shouldn't be wasted, G responded, "Education is never wasted," I decided I would try a little bit.
And I finally found one that I LIKED. REALLY liked. I probably won't ever have it again since it was a 1989 Something or other imported from France, but I enjoyed what little bit I did have. I would probably have consumed quite a bit more, but since I was driving home (my husband doesn't do well with a standard transmission), and it's been so long since I've had alcohol, and I screwed up the tags on my car, I didn't want to get pulled over and then face DUI charges. I'm also so overly paranoid that in all I probably had half a glass of wine and stopped drinking it about three hours before leaving.
We finally left at about 10:30, much earlier than normal. Dad had scheduled his Christmas breakfast to a brunch for us, but it was still nice to know we'd actually get some sleep this year.
For once, I planned ahead. Too bad it was because I'd procrastinated so many other things that I was forced to.
I'm still feeling change in my yoga poses with every class. They may be miniscule, but for me it's nice to be able to feel progress--especially since I never seemed to be able to make progress in physical therapy (with Kaiser anyway).
The only downside is that now I'm debating whether I should take pictures in my poses as I can do them now, or whether I should go back to where I was. I'll figure it out on another day when I have more time.
I spent the day scrambling and wrapping presents. My husband went up to the mountain to play in the snow.
Our Christmas eve tradition as a couple is FABULOUS. His best friend is French, and I will refer to him as "G" for this. G and his wife put on the most incredible dinner. Usually it is just their family that is invited--and us. I totally married in to an awesome invitation on that one.
Usually the festivities start around 6:00, we socialize for a bit, and then around 7:00 we start in the Christmas-decorated living room with a Champagne toast, complete with some kind of delicacy (imported cheese, truffles--the mushroom kind, olives, and oysters have been a few). Then we meander into the dining room where we have multiple courses up to the main course of lamb. This is followed by (forgive my atrocious French spelling if I mangle it) True Normand, a few more courses, and then at midnight we return to the living room, and open presents. After presents we go back to the dining room, have the Bouche Noel (Yule log) dessert, and then a coffee course.
In all, about a 10 course meal.
Did I mention that nearly every course has a wine specially chosen to match it? Not that my husband or I drink, but on occasion we have sampled them. I, unfortunately, do not have a sophisticated enough palette to appreciate it and usually just refuse now, insisting that they not waste any on me and let someone who will enjoy it have it instead. G still tries, every year, saying, "You just don't like wine because you haven't found one you like yet."
The True Normand is a sorbet and apple brandy. This I happily partake of, even though I'm still teased because I once referred to it as the "stomach bomb."
In my defense, when I asked what it was the first year, it was explained to me that the combination of these specific ingredients has an effect on your digestion that essentially clears room in your stomach so you can keep eating, even though you were full moments before. I SWEAR that G said to me that first year (in his French accent), "Eez like a bome een your stomach." (It's like a bomb in your stomach.) Whether or not he said that, it's what I remember, so the next year, I asked if we were having the stomach bomb and no one knew what I was talking about.
Now they all know and tease me.
Anyway, this is our tradition for Christmas eve--usually we get home about 2:00am, sleep for a few hours, then leave the house by 8:00am to get to my dad's.
This year was different.
G's daughter, who is only 6, has been in the hospital for two weeks, much of it in intensive care. The doctors aren't completely sure what's wrong (and in the interests of their privacy, I won't go into the few details I do know), but she hasn't been able to keep her fever down for more than 48 hours so they won't release her yet.
We (my husband and I) first found out a few days after she was initially admitted. We were told that Christmas eve would be cancelled. The only (selfish) good thing out of this is that it would mean we could sleep before our Christmas day traditions (three parties to go to and about 120 miles of driving).
We found out that the hospital granted G's daughter a 7-hour leave for the Christmas eve celebrations, which they bumped to late afternoon instead of evening.
It was quieter and more subdued. G's daughter stayed in their bedroom on the bed, having stories read to her by her uncle, and we went in, one at a time, to say hello and let her open presents.
Poor kid was weak and in pain. She hurt too much to stay for the celebrations, so G's wife and brother-in-law took her back to the hospital after only a couple of hours.
We still had the rest of the party with G, his parents, and his wife's dad. My daughter and G's son (they're only 4 months apart) had fun playing together.
G came up to me at one point, frantic. "Do you know what the bows are?" Apparently he got a call from his wife at the hospital. I'd given their daughter a frame with her name in it, which had a whole bunch of hair bows hanging from it. She liked it and was demanding it be brought to her at the hospital.
I'd initially felt a little bad because this year our budget forced us to do a number of homemade gifts, but at least one of them was a hit. Probably the most important one, considering how much not fun Christmas in the hospital is for a kid.
We ONLY had a six-course meal this year (no True Normand), and as I was once again refusing the wine on grounds that it shouldn't be wasted, G responded, "Education is never wasted," I decided I would try a little bit.
And I finally found one that I LIKED. REALLY liked. I probably won't ever have it again since it was a 1989 Something or other imported from France, but I enjoyed what little bit I did have. I would probably have consumed quite a bit more, but since I was driving home (my husband doesn't do well with a standard transmission), and it's been so long since I've had alcohol, and I screwed up the tags on my car, I didn't want to get pulled over and then face DUI charges. I'm also so overly paranoid that in all I probably had half a glass of wine and stopped drinking it about three hours before leaving.
We finally left at about 10:30, much earlier than normal. Dad had scheduled his Christmas breakfast to a brunch for us, but it was still nice to know we'd actually get some sleep this year.
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
Bikram Yoga, Day 5
Today again felt like I made more progress in yoga, which is a good thing, but also, since I want to take "beginning" pictures, not as great because I'm already further than I was when I started.
The instructor agreed to do the photos after class, but it took so long for the studio to empty and the front desk replacement was late, so we only got a few of the poses done.
Hopefully I will be able to get to it on Friday, although I'm not sure if that's realistic since it will be Christmas eve.
The instructor agreed to do the photos after class, but it took so long for the studio to empty and the front desk replacement was late, so we only got a few of the poses done.
Hopefully I will be able to get to it on Friday, although I'm not sure if that's realistic since it will be Christmas eve.
Monday, December 20, 2010
Bikram Yoga, Day 4
Thankful that yesterday was over, I went to yoga again this morning.
GOOD NEWS! in the "balancing stick" pose (I think that's what it's called), I was able to actually lift my back leg off of the floor for the first time.
Technically, balancing stick is a one-legged stand, with the rest of the body forming a horizontal "T" position. MY balancing stick so far has been more like an upside-down lowercase "y" position because I haven't been able to lift my back leg off of the floor. Not because of weakness or strength, but because it turns on the hot burning knife twisting and poking into my sacrum feeling.
So while lifting my back leg off of the floor by an inch might not seem like much, it's one of those huge milestone progress items for me because it's something I haven't been able to do for SIX YEARS.
What's even cooler is that I did it without pain medication, and after only four days of yoga.
Afterward, I talked to the instructor. I finally came up with how I want to track my progress. I'm hoping to take pictures of myself in each pose, and soon. I want it to be as close a reflection to my "starting" point as possible. Then retake photos in 3-6 months and repeat as I progress. He said he would be happy to help and we could do it after class sometime.
I came home from yoga, ran around wrapping the baby shower present, getting showered and changed, and trying to get everything together. I ended up not having time to get to DEQ and went straight to the baby shower.
It was fun seeing my cousin all pregnant and glowing. She looked fantastic and I have to admit I was jealous because she totally looks better pregnant than I do right now.
Not a very positive self-image on my part, but that's why I'm working on changing things.
My daughter had a blast staying at Grandpa's house with her cousins and didn't want to leave. My sister offered to take her another night, which I might just have to take her up on.
GOOD NEWS! in the "balancing stick" pose (I think that's what it's called), I was able to actually lift my back leg off of the floor for the first time.
Technically, balancing stick is a one-legged stand, with the rest of the body forming a horizontal "T" position. MY balancing stick so far has been more like an upside-down lowercase "y" position because I haven't been able to lift my back leg off of the floor. Not because of weakness or strength, but because it turns on the hot burning knife twisting and poking into my sacrum feeling.
So while lifting my back leg off of the floor by an inch might not seem like much, it's one of those huge milestone progress items for me because it's something I haven't been able to do for SIX YEARS.
What's even cooler is that I did it without pain medication, and after only four days of yoga.
Afterward, I talked to the instructor. I finally came up with how I want to track my progress. I'm hoping to take pictures of myself in each pose, and soon. I want it to be as close a reflection to my "starting" point as possible. Then retake photos in 3-6 months and repeat as I progress. He said he would be happy to help and we could do it after class sometime.
I came home from yoga, ran around wrapping the baby shower present, getting showered and changed, and trying to get everything together. I ended up not having time to get to DEQ and went straight to the baby shower.
It was fun seeing my cousin all pregnant and glowing. She looked fantastic and I have to admit I was jealous because she totally looks better pregnant than I do right now.
Not a very positive self-image on my part, but that's why I'm working on changing things.
My daughter had a blast staying at Grandpa's house with her cousins and didn't want to leave. My sister offered to take her another night, which I might just have to take her up on.
Sunday, December 19, 2010
A Very Long Day of Nothing
Thinking that my sister was coming back sometime in the morning to help out with the house, I stayed home while my husband went up to the mountain with my daughter and our friends.
I did a little cleaning, a little sewing, and alternated between the two through the day.
Midafternoon I started getting annoyed.
When my sister called, I found out she wasn't planning on coming back until tomorrow (Monday). Apparently somewhere we had a little tiny (actually huge) miscommunication.
This meant that 1) I was trapped at home without a car all day long and 2) I could have gone and spent the day with my family in the snow instead.
Completely irritated (and not yet calm enough to look at the situation rationally) when my husband got home, I went into troll mode and about bit his head off.
He, of course, had no idea what was wrong with me.
My dad ended up driving up to get me because I had to have my car to get places in the morning, included DEQ.
I did leave my daughter at my Dad's house though. Tonight will be her very first night without one of her parents. Since we cosleep (she sleeps in the bed with us), this is actually a very big deal. I did my best to prepare her for it and I'm sure she'll be fine, but I'm curious to see how it goes.
My sister thought it would be good for my husband and I to have some time as a couple and go do something, but when I got home, I fell asleep instead.
I did a little cleaning, a little sewing, and alternated between the two through the day.
Midafternoon I started getting annoyed.
When my sister called, I found out she wasn't planning on coming back until tomorrow (Monday). Apparently somewhere we had a little tiny (actually huge) miscommunication.
This meant that 1) I was trapped at home without a car all day long and 2) I could have gone and spent the day with my family in the snow instead.
Completely irritated (and not yet calm enough to look at the situation rationally) when my husband got home, I went into troll mode and about bit his head off.
He, of course, had no idea what was wrong with me.
My dad ended up driving up to get me because I had to have my car to get places in the morning, included DEQ.
I did leave my daughter at my Dad's house though. Tonight will be her very first night without one of her parents. Since we cosleep (she sleeps in the bed with us), this is actually a very big deal. I did my best to prepare her for it and I'm sure she'll be fine, but I'm curious to see how it goes.
My sister thought it would be good for my husband and I to have some time as a couple and go do something, but when I got home, I fell asleep instead.
Saturday, December 18, 2010
Finally, a Visit to Dr. Amy
So because I didn't schedule enough in advance, I didn't get to go to the chiropractor this week on Tuesday like normal and had to wait until today. Thank goodness for the yoga, because I've now been without any kind of painkiller for 5 days. I don't think I would have made it without the yoga.
Dr. Amy approved and encouraged me to continue with the yoga. I struggled so much though to sit up after my prone treatments that she asked if I had an exercise ball I could bring to rest on next time to see if I could decrease the amount of discomfort when I get up.
Know what else? My last headache was Monday--the last day I took the Tramadol. Tuesday was rough pain wise, but my head felt like I was coming out of a fog. I've known I wanted to be done with the stuff, but wow, what a difference.
The anti-inflammatory didn't do anything for me though. I'm so tired of taking those with no benefit I can feel that I quit taking it too.
I got home and was trying to get things to a point where my sister and I could work on cleaning and organizing, but she had promised a friend she would visit, so I let her take my car, and she was planning on spending the night with my dad, so I told her as long as she came back tomorrow (Sunday), it would be fine.
I was hoping to try to get to the 4:00 yoga class, but my husband was out with his car doing Christmas shopping (for me, so I wasn't invited), so I was carless.
I decided I'd better hurry up and start sewing Christmas presents that were going to be homemade.
And put off cleaning yet another day.
Dr. Amy approved and encouraged me to continue with the yoga. I struggled so much though to sit up after my prone treatments that she asked if I had an exercise ball I could bring to rest on next time to see if I could decrease the amount of discomfort when I get up.
Know what else? My last headache was Monday--the last day I took the Tramadol. Tuesday was rough pain wise, but my head felt like I was coming out of a fog. I've known I wanted to be done with the stuff, but wow, what a difference.
The anti-inflammatory didn't do anything for me though. I'm so tired of taking those with no benefit I can feel that I quit taking it too.
I got home and was trying to get things to a point where my sister and I could work on cleaning and organizing, but she had promised a friend she would visit, so I let her take my car, and she was planning on spending the night with my dad, so I told her as long as she came back tomorrow (Sunday), it would be fine.
I was hoping to try to get to the 4:00 yoga class, but my husband was out with his car doing Christmas shopping (for me, so I wasn't invited), so I was carless.
I decided I'd better hurry up and start sewing Christmas presents that were going to be homemade.
And put off cleaning yet another day.
Friday, December 17, 2010
Bikram Yoga, Day 3
I'm still not terribly enjoying getting up this early. I would so much rather stay up until 2 or 3 in the morning and roll out of bed at 10:00am than force myself to try to go to sleep early (which doesn't usually work) and then struggle to get going in the morning.
Oddly, I'm waking up about a half hour before my alarm goes off. I think if I just got up and stayed up I'd be fine, but when I realize I have another half hour to sleep and then try and utilize it, that's when I can't get up again.
My instructor showed me some modifications of the poses for me to use. Some of them are frustrating--like one where the end pose is bent over a straight leg--I can do that, just not wrap my fingers around my toes. The modification, which is bending my knee all the way up to my chest, I still can't completely wrap my fingers (again the excess stomach baggage blocking me from compressing completely) AND I'm not stretching.
It's interesting though, coming from a coaching background and having to just take instructions and not argue.
My job is just to hang in there and do what I can. I'm already noticing changes, which is good, but as with everything else I'm working on, the end goal is a LONG ways away yet.
Today my sister and her two kids arrived. The original plan was that she would come and help me organize/clean my house, but right after she arrived I had to leave to go give a client a massage, then take my Level 9 judging test (I've failed it twice and haven't studied much; my hopes aren't high for this time around), then go swimming with everyone.
I packed all the swimming stuff with me, knowing my husband would be late and I was likely to arrive first and possibly even be done with my own swimming workout before he even got there.
That's not quite what happened.
1) I arrived a little late for my judging test, holding up the process (they were nice and waited for me)
2) The other girl and I talked for a bit and asked questions before we even started the test.
3) The test took longer than I remembered.
4) I was so late for swimming that we didn't even go. We would have had only 20 minutes left, and at $6.50 a person, that seemed a bit expensive.
So we decided to go to my husband's former workplace, which has a hot tub.
It closed--and I'm not exaggerating--two minutes before we got there.
I decided to do another grocery run while my husband stayed and played with our daughter and our friend's family.
So much for family swim night.
I got home after 10:00pm.
So much for cleaning/organizing the house.
Oddly, I'm waking up about a half hour before my alarm goes off. I think if I just got up and stayed up I'd be fine, but when I realize I have another half hour to sleep and then try and utilize it, that's when I can't get up again.
My instructor showed me some modifications of the poses for me to use. Some of them are frustrating--like one where the end pose is bent over a straight leg--I can do that, just not wrap my fingers around my toes. The modification, which is bending my knee all the way up to my chest, I still can't completely wrap my fingers (again the excess stomach baggage blocking me from compressing completely) AND I'm not stretching.
It's interesting though, coming from a coaching background and having to just take instructions and not argue.
My job is just to hang in there and do what I can. I'm already noticing changes, which is good, but as with everything else I'm working on, the end goal is a LONG ways away yet.
Today my sister and her two kids arrived. The original plan was that she would come and help me organize/clean my house, but right after she arrived I had to leave to go give a client a massage, then take my Level 9 judging test (I've failed it twice and haven't studied much; my hopes aren't high for this time around), then go swimming with everyone.
I packed all the swimming stuff with me, knowing my husband would be late and I was likely to arrive first and possibly even be done with my own swimming workout before he even got there.
That's not quite what happened.
1) I arrived a little late for my judging test, holding up the process (they were nice and waited for me)
2) The other girl and I talked for a bit and asked questions before we even started the test.
3) The test took longer than I remembered.
4) I was so late for swimming that we didn't even go. We would have had only 20 minutes left, and at $6.50 a person, that seemed a bit expensive.
So we decided to go to my husband's former workplace, which has a hot tub.
It closed--and I'm not exaggerating--two minutes before we got there.
I decided to do another grocery run while my husband stayed and played with our daughter and our friend's family.
So much for family swim night.
I got home after 10:00pm.
So much for cleaning/organizing the house.
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
Bikram Yoga, Day 2
In comparison to my entire one other day of Bikram Yoga, today was easier and felt a little bit shorter. It still seems like the longest hour and a half EVER, but not like Monday's, which felt like 3 days long.
We had a different instructor today. He seems very good (like Monday's instructor). He spent much less time helping out the newbies as compared to the guy on Monday, but was still kind and patient.
It was really nice knowing (sort of) what to expect this time though.
Warning: oversharing ahead. I just wish that I could make it through a class without farting. I don't know what it is about this; maybe it's some of the poses and the way they push on my abdomen, but I hate that I've had at least one sneaker toot escape my control each class.
At least I'm not the only one, though. I heard a couple of others today and was so relieved it's not just me that I wanted to actually thank them.
The biggest problem was that coming home, there was a SEVERE traffic jam. I took some side roads, which helped until I got stuck behind a bunch of other people with the same idea. I didn't get back home until 9:10--which meant my husband had to call in to his 9:00am work meeting. Oops.
I was pleased though that I was able to feel that some of the poses were not as difficult as the first time. I'm trying to figure out a way that I can track my progress, but I'm not sure how I'll do that yet.
We had a different instructor today. He seems very good (like Monday's instructor). He spent much less time helping out the newbies as compared to the guy on Monday, but was still kind and patient.
It was really nice knowing (sort of) what to expect this time though.
Warning: oversharing ahead. I just wish that I could make it through a class without farting. I don't know what it is about this; maybe it's some of the poses and the way they push on my abdomen, but I hate that I've had at least one sneaker toot escape my control each class.
At least I'm not the only one, though. I heard a couple of others today and was so relieved it's not just me that I wanted to actually thank them.
The biggest problem was that coming home, there was a SEVERE traffic jam. I took some side roads, which helped until I got stuck behind a bunch of other people with the same idea. I didn't get back home until 9:10--which meant my husband had to call in to his 9:00am work meeting. Oops.
I was pleased though that I was able to feel that some of the poses were not as difficult as the first time. I'm trying to figure out a way that I can track my progress, but I'm not sure how I'll do that yet.
Monday, December 13, 2010
Bikram Yoga, Day 1
My friend from massage school is visiting her family for the holidays and called me to see if I wanted to try out Bikram Yoga for a month. There's an introductory special for unlimited classes for a month for only $29.00 at this place she found. It's a fantastic deal, so I told her I would. That was about a month ago. Today was our first day.
Now I knew that one of the critical things that separates Bikram Yoga from other types is that it is done in a room that is 105 degrees F. Considering my relationship with heat over the past few months, this might not be a great idea, but I figured I could premedicate myself and hope it would work.
For some reason, I couldn't sleep at all last night. The last time I looked at the clock, it was 4:15, so when it woke me up at 5:00am, I was less than excited to roll out of bed. However, since the web site said that 95% of the effort of your workout is getting there, I lurched myself across the house into the kitchen, had a small snack and my back medication, and went to go get my clothes out of the dryer to get dressed.
Small problem. My clothes weren't in the dryer. They were still in the washing machine. Fortunately I was up early enough I had time to get them in the dryer and get it running. I got the rest of my things together (which wasn't much because I'd put what I could in the car the night before so I wouldn't forget anything) and waited for the dryer.
When my clothes were dry (enough), I got dressed and ran out the door. It was 5:40, the yoga place is 30 minutes away, and I was supposed to be there at 6:00. Somehow I made it.
Also somehow, I didn't get stopped for speeding. *whew*
My friend met me there, we went inside, paid, and went into the toasty room. It wasn't that bad, although we were just sitting there talking and already I was wanting water.
The guy who ran it was really nice and had a soothing yet demanding voice, instructing us vocally as he walked around the room, offering corrections to individuals (I was impressed that he knew nearly everyone by name) and guiding us through the techniques without demonstrating a single one.
I did okay. There were a few poses that I had problems moving through because I can't bend that way with my back--if I moved into them in my own way, I could get there (or to a modified form), but I couldn't go through the path that was instructed. There were other poses that I was flexible enough to do, but I couldn't hold them. Not because I'm not flexible enough, but because there's still enough (meaning a lot) of excess stomach on me and when I pull my thighs to my chest, it compresses my excess stomach into my abdomen, which pushes my regular abdominal contents towards my lungs, which pushes my lungs I don't know where, but it ends up meaning I can't inhale because there's no room left inside of my ribs for my lungs to expand.
Ugh, sometimes it is so hard to exercise when you're not in shape to exercise.
We were probably about 1/2 to 2/3 of the way through before I was able to let my thoughts drift from what I was doing to thinking about whether or not I was enjoying myself. The weird thing was, when I thought about it, I couldn't decide.
Since I'm competitive, I decided that the only way I would "enjoy" it would be to challenge myself to get to a certain point; otherwise I wouldn't have motivation to keep it up. Silly, perhaps, but it's the way my mind works, and whatever it takes to get me going is what I'm going to have to do to continue to make change.
From there, I started to think about what I'd write in here. And I thought, "December 13: The day I started Bikram Yoga."
Hmmm. What's familiar about December 13?
And then I remembered.
And I burst into tears.
Four years ago today, my mother died. The tears continued to flow and I ended up not concentrating at all on what I was doing, but rather on not sobbing. It wasn't working; the more I thought about it, the more sad I became.
I seriously considered bolting out of the room and not returning.
Thank goodness I was sweating. The tears blended in just fine with the sweat already running down my (purple overheated) face. I blotted myself with a towel as we were instructed to roll over into a new position and ended up looking at a purple lotus flower painted on the wall. I spent quite a bit of time staring at it and the colors on it, trying to think about that rather than anything else so I could stop crying.
It mostly worked.
I managed to finish the class and the instructor asked everyone to applaud for me for making it through my first class. It made me feel nice to have a room full of people cheering for me (and was also a good distraction from my sadness).
I went in to the women's room to change and someone else who had been in the class told me how well I did--that just making it through without leaving the room was a success, and to keep it up. That too, made me feel better.
I met my friend out front and ran out to my car to get my phone--I was expecting a call from my doctor regarding my headaches (because Kaiser would rather make me take a phone appointment or send me to urgent care than let me see my doctor, long story). As I was about to head back in, another woman from class came up to me and was very positive and encouraging and offered me advice about breathing.
She too said I did a good job managing to stay in the room--that many people can't their first time. I talked with her for a bit, then my friend, then couldn't figure out why, since I even got a reminder phone call about my phone doctor appointment, I hadn't received a call from my doctor (it was now 25 minutes late).
Turns out he had called only 15 minutes late but my phone didn't decide to let me know until after the voice mail had been there for 10 minutes.
Finally I got to speak to him and (as I had thought), his thoughts are that I have what are called analgesic rebound headaches. Essentially, what I was taking for the headaches was the cause, so every time it would wear off the headache would come back. He told me to stay off of the back pain medication for a week and he'd give me something else.
He prescribed an anti-inflammatory.
I'm sorry, but I've used anti-inflammatories off and on for the last six years for my back and they don't do ANYTHING. Okay, so I can't see what they might be doing to help me at a microscopic level, but even when taking them regularly, I felt no difference, and since I've read that they can be harmful to your heart after long periods of time, I'm not excited about taking any more.
The migraine creeping in from my early-morning dosage was horrendous by time I got home and it was all I could do to crash in bed. I felt like the worst mother ever, getting up only to feed, change a movie, or (sorry for oversharing) wipe my daughter until the headache finally eased off around 4:00.
I drank what water I could, although the headache was bad enough that I was worried the water wouldn't stay where it belonged.
I'll have to see how Wednesday yoga goes without the back pain meds. I'm glad to be rid of them, but also scared that I'm going to end up in my pain cycle that landed me at this weight in the first place.
One day at a time.
Now I knew that one of the critical things that separates Bikram Yoga from other types is that it is done in a room that is 105 degrees F. Considering my relationship with heat over the past few months, this might not be a great idea, but I figured I could premedicate myself and hope it would work.
For some reason, I couldn't sleep at all last night. The last time I looked at the clock, it was 4:15, so when it woke me up at 5:00am, I was less than excited to roll out of bed. However, since the web site said that 95% of the effort of your workout is getting there, I lurched myself across the house into the kitchen, had a small snack and my back medication, and went to go get my clothes out of the dryer to get dressed.
Small problem. My clothes weren't in the dryer. They were still in the washing machine. Fortunately I was up early enough I had time to get them in the dryer and get it running. I got the rest of my things together (which wasn't much because I'd put what I could in the car the night before so I wouldn't forget anything) and waited for the dryer.
When my clothes were dry (enough), I got dressed and ran out the door. It was 5:40, the yoga place is 30 minutes away, and I was supposed to be there at 6:00. Somehow I made it.
Also somehow, I didn't get stopped for speeding. *whew*
My friend met me there, we went inside, paid, and went into the toasty room. It wasn't that bad, although we were just sitting there talking and already I was wanting water.
The guy who ran it was really nice and had a soothing yet demanding voice, instructing us vocally as he walked around the room, offering corrections to individuals (I was impressed that he knew nearly everyone by name) and guiding us through the techniques without demonstrating a single one.
I did okay. There were a few poses that I had problems moving through because I can't bend that way with my back--if I moved into them in my own way, I could get there (or to a modified form), but I couldn't go through the path that was instructed. There were other poses that I was flexible enough to do, but I couldn't hold them. Not because I'm not flexible enough, but because there's still enough (meaning a lot) of excess stomach on me and when I pull my thighs to my chest, it compresses my excess stomach into my abdomen, which pushes my regular abdominal contents towards my lungs, which pushes my lungs I don't know where, but it ends up meaning I can't inhale because there's no room left inside of my ribs for my lungs to expand.
Ugh, sometimes it is so hard to exercise when you're not in shape to exercise.
We were probably about 1/2 to 2/3 of the way through before I was able to let my thoughts drift from what I was doing to thinking about whether or not I was enjoying myself. The weird thing was, when I thought about it, I couldn't decide.
Since I'm competitive, I decided that the only way I would "enjoy" it would be to challenge myself to get to a certain point; otherwise I wouldn't have motivation to keep it up. Silly, perhaps, but it's the way my mind works, and whatever it takes to get me going is what I'm going to have to do to continue to make change.
From there, I started to think about what I'd write in here. And I thought, "December 13: The day I started Bikram Yoga."
Hmmm. What's familiar about December 13?
And then I remembered.
And I burst into tears.
Four years ago today, my mother died. The tears continued to flow and I ended up not concentrating at all on what I was doing, but rather on not sobbing. It wasn't working; the more I thought about it, the more sad I became.
I seriously considered bolting out of the room and not returning.
Thank goodness I was sweating. The tears blended in just fine with the sweat already running down my (purple overheated) face. I blotted myself with a towel as we were instructed to roll over into a new position and ended up looking at a purple lotus flower painted on the wall. I spent quite a bit of time staring at it and the colors on it, trying to think about that rather than anything else so I could stop crying.
It mostly worked.
I managed to finish the class and the instructor asked everyone to applaud for me for making it through my first class. It made me feel nice to have a room full of people cheering for me (and was also a good distraction from my sadness).
I went in to the women's room to change and someone else who had been in the class told me how well I did--that just making it through without leaving the room was a success, and to keep it up. That too, made me feel better.
I met my friend out front and ran out to my car to get my phone--I was expecting a call from my doctor regarding my headaches (because Kaiser would rather make me take a phone appointment or send me to urgent care than let me see my doctor, long story). As I was about to head back in, another woman from class came up to me and was very positive and encouraging and offered me advice about breathing.
She too said I did a good job managing to stay in the room--that many people can't their first time. I talked with her for a bit, then my friend, then couldn't figure out why, since I even got a reminder phone call about my phone doctor appointment, I hadn't received a call from my doctor (it was now 25 minutes late).
Turns out he had called only 15 minutes late but my phone didn't decide to let me know until after the voice mail had been there for 10 minutes.
Finally I got to speak to him and (as I had thought), his thoughts are that I have what are called analgesic rebound headaches. Essentially, what I was taking for the headaches was the cause, so every time it would wear off the headache would come back. He told me to stay off of the back pain medication for a week and he'd give me something else.
He prescribed an anti-inflammatory.
I'm sorry, but I've used anti-inflammatories off and on for the last six years for my back and they don't do ANYTHING. Okay, so I can't see what they might be doing to help me at a microscopic level, but even when taking them regularly, I felt no difference, and since I've read that they can be harmful to your heart after long periods of time, I'm not excited about taking any more.
The migraine creeping in from my early-morning dosage was horrendous by time I got home and it was all I could do to crash in bed. I felt like the worst mother ever, getting up only to feed, change a movie, or (sorry for oversharing) wipe my daughter until the headache finally eased off around 4:00.
I drank what water I could, although the headache was bad enough that I was worried the water wouldn't stay where it belonged.
I'll have to see how Wednesday yoga goes without the back pain meds. I'm glad to be rid of them, but also scared that I'm going to end up in my pain cycle that landed me at this weight in the first place.
One day at a time.
Saturday, December 11, 2010
Something New
Last night I was on the 24 Hour Fitness web site and looked at the class schedule. I keep meaning to go to classes but haven't been able to get a time that there's a class I want and I have someone to watch Ijja.
I figured a 7:45 am Saturday yoga class might actually work.
Getting up for it was another story.
I scooted in to the class and the room was already quite full. I picked up one of the "public" mats at the door--which are not so great for a variety of reasons. I placed myself near the back in a semi-open space (i.e., less crowded than the rest of the room) and was already self-conscious since the instructor was already talking as I was getting myself settled.
The class was really nice though. My mat proved to be challenging because it stretched--so as I was doing one of the lunging poses, my lunge kept going deeper. Perhaps that's why nearly everyone else had their own mat.
I've only taken one yoga class before--and it was probably at least 10 years ago, so this was really a new experience. About halfway through I remembered what I thought of the last class: it's amazing how staying nearly still can be so much work.
Most of the time I was just focused on trying to do what I was supposed to be doing and breathe. A few times I did glance around to see what others were doing and was surprised by a few things.
Holy cow, my hamstrings and calves have lost SO much flexibility since I got hurt. There was a time when in ANY given situation, I would be one of the most, if not the most, flexible person at an activity. That has exactly flipflopped for those muscles. There were a couple of stretches that it looked like I wasn't even trying to participate, yet my muscles were on the edge of revolt it stretched so much.
Alternately, my balance still seems to be decent. I don't practice balancing much any more, so was surprised that I still seem to be able to control my body to keep it from flipping over. There were a few poses that I was one of the few actually able to do them, let alone hold them. It made me feel a little better for being lousy at the flexibility earlier on.
Again, surprised by how much work it was to stay still. Sheesh!
After I was done with yoga, I decided I hadn't done enough to myself yet, so I went for a swim. Between being sick and having a hard time getting to do workouts lately, it was a bit more challenging than it had been.
Oh, and I learned that the pool I've been practicing my "half miles" in is actually only 25 yards, not 25 meters. Okay, so there's only 3 inches difference between a yard and a meter, but on one length of the pool alone, that's nearly 2 meters difference. On a half mile, it means a 3 pool length difference.
So all those "half mile" practice runs I swam to get ready for the triathlon?
Weren't.
While it may surprise those who have seen my house, I have a few OCD tendencies. With swimming, it is even numbers. So instead of swimming 35 lengths of the pool to get in my half mile, I did 36. Not only that, but I divided up my breaks mathematically as well: 4-8-12-8-4, stopping for about 30 seconds after each group of lengths.
That's not even going into the math I do in my head while swimming the lengths so I don't go crazy following the black line on the bottom of the pool.
Let me step back on this side of crazy now.
I came home from swimming and...felt the beginnings of a migraine. Rather than wait for it to blow up, I took some of my back pain medication. I did spend a few minutes debating this as I'm pretty sure my back meds are causing my migraines. However, since I'd already taken them before yoga (about 5 hours prior), I couldn't take my migraine medication (have to wait 12 hours after back meds before migraine meds), I had a Christmas party to go to in the evening, and the back meds do take care of the existing migraine (before causing the next one), I took them anyway and went to go to sleep.
Four hours later I woke up feeling no worse, but not much better. I got ready for the party, got my daughter ready for the party, and when my husband got home, we left, on Moroccan time, about 30 minutes late.
As we pulled into the street that the home was on we were about to visit, my husband informed me he wasn't feeling well--and he thought I had what I had a few days ago.
I turned around and drove him home rather than expose him to everyone at the party.
Then my daughter and I went back and enjoyed ourselves socializing for a couple of hours. The senior preschool teacher (meaning she teaches the 4-year-olds!) was there and was very complimentary, telling me how cute my daughter was and she was amazed that at 8:30 pm, my 3-year-old was the only child there not in the middle of a meltdown.
And she had been a little angel the whole evening.
Until we walked out the door.
On the way home, I drove her down one of the streets with lots of Christmas lights. I thought she would be thrilled, but apparently I had left the party at the exact moment her nice temperament had worn out and instead she really didn't seem to care.
At least my headache seemed to have disappeared by that time, and by time i got home the whole family was ready for bed.
Except the dog, who needed out 37 times.
I figured a 7:45 am Saturday yoga class might actually work.
Getting up for it was another story.
I scooted in to the class and the room was already quite full. I picked up one of the "public" mats at the door--which are not so great for a variety of reasons. I placed myself near the back in a semi-open space (i.e., less crowded than the rest of the room) and was already self-conscious since the instructor was already talking as I was getting myself settled.
The class was really nice though. My mat proved to be challenging because it stretched--so as I was doing one of the lunging poses, my lunge kept going deeper. Perhaps that's why nearly everyone else had their own mat.
I've only taken one yoga class before--and it was probably at least 10 years ago, so this was really a new experience. About halfway through I remembered what I thought of the last class: it's amazing how staying nearly still can be so much work.
Most of the time I was just focused on trying to do what I was supposed to be doing and breathe. A few times I did glance around to see what others were doing and was surprised by a few things.
Holy cow, my hamstrings and calves have lost SO much flexibility since I got hurt. There was a time when in ANY given situation, I would be one of the most, if not the most, flexible person at an activity. That has exactly flipflopped for those muscles. There were a couple of stretches that it looked like I wasn't even trying to participate, yet my muscles were on the edge of revolt it stretched so much.
Alternately, my balance still seems to be decent. I don't practice balancing much any more, so was surprised that I still seem to be able to control my body to keep it from flipping over. There were a few poses that I was one of the few actually able to do them, let alone hold them. It made me feel a little better for being lousy at the flexibility earlier on.
Again, surprised by how much work it was to stay still. Sheesh!
After I was done with yoga, I decided I hadn't done enough to myself yet, so I went for a swim. Between being sick and having a hard time getting to do workouts lately, it was a bit more challenging than it had been.
Oh, and I learned that the pool I've been practicing my "half miles" in is actually only 25 yards, not 25 meters. Okay, so there's only 3 inches difference between a yard and a meter, but on one length of the pool alone, that's nearly 2 meters difference. On a half mile, it means a 3 pool length difference.
So all those "half mile" practice runs I swam to get ready for the triathlon?
Weren't.
While it may surprise those who have seen my house, I have a few OCD tendencies. With swimming, it is even numbers. So instead of swimming 35 lengths of the pool to get in my half mile, I did 36. Not only that, but I divided up my breaks mathematically as well: 4-8-12-8-4, stopping for about 30 seconds after each group of lengths.
That's not even going into the math I do in my head while swimming the lengths so I don't go crazy following the black line on the bottom of the pool.
Let me step back on this side of crazy now.
I came home from swimming and...felt the beginnings of a migraine. Rather than wait for it to blow up, I took some of my back pain medication. I did spend a few minutes debating this as I'm pretty sure my back meds are causing my migraines. However, since I'd already taken them before yoga (about 5 hours prior), I couldn't take my migraine medication (have to wait 12 hours after back meds before migraine meds), I had a Christmas party to go to in the evening, and the back meds do take care of the existing migraine (before causing the next one), I took them anyway and went to go to sleep.
Four hours later I woke up feeling no worse, but not much better. I got ready for the party, got my daughter ready for the party, and when my husband got home, we left, on Moroccan time, about 30 minutes late.
As we pulled into the street that the home was on we were about to visit, my husband informed me he wasn't feeling well--and he thought I had what I had a few days ago.
I turned around and drove him home rather than expose him to everyone at the party.
Then my daughter and I went back and enjoyed ourselves socializing for a couple of hours. The senior preschool teacher (meaning she teaches the 4-year-olds!) was there and was very complimentary, telling me how cute my daughter was and she was amazed that at 8:30 pm, my 3-year-old was the only child there not in the middle of a meltdown.
And she had been a little angel the whole evening.
Until we walked out the door.
On the way home, I drove her down one of the streets with lots of Christmas lights. I thought she would be thrilled, but apparently I had left the party at the exact moment her nice temperament had worn out and instead she really didn't seem to care.
At least my headache seemed to have disappeared by that time, and by time i got home the whole family was ready for bed.
Except the dog, who needed out 37 times.
Thursday, December 9, 2010
From Bad to Worse
Apparently NyQuil does a really good job of masking symptoms because despite starting to feel a little better yesterday and being hopeful for today, ah...not so much.
Before I go any further, there is a too much information alert in progress. You've been warned.
I was NOT feeling well in the afternoon, decided that because of it, I wouldn't be taking my daughter to gymnastics, and then texted my husband to ask him to bring home some ginger ale.
I only ever ask him to bring home ginger ale when I'm sick or someone else is.
An hour later I texted him and told him he was too late.
An hour after that, he showed up with ginger ale. I sipped on it anyway, which turned out to be a bad plan.
Despite having conversations with him about this, he still asks what I consider the stupidest question in the world when I'm busy with reverse digestion. So while I was occupied making noises so horrific that had I not been the one making them, I would have joined in, he yells across the house.
"Are you okay?"
1) I was physically incapable of answering that question in that moment and
2) Obviously not.
I never answered as I was too busy feeling sorry for myself. Also, I was afraid to open my mouth.
Before I go any further, there is a too much information alert in progress. You've been warned.
I was NOT feeling well in the afternoon, decided that because of it, I wouldn't be taking my daughter to gymnastics, and then texted my husband to ask him to bring home some ginger ale.
I only ever ask him to bring home ginger ale when I'm sick or someone else is.
An hour later I texted him and told him he was too late.
An hour after that, he showed up with ginger ale. I sipped on it anyway, which turned out to be a bad plan.
Despite having conversations with him about this, he still asks what I consider the stupidest question in the world when I'm busy with reverse digestion. So while I was occupied making noises so horrific that had I not been the one making them, I would have joined in, he yells across the house.
"Are you okay?"
1) I was physically incapable of answering that question in that moment and
2) Obviously not.
I never answered as I was too busy feeling sorry for myself. Also, I was afraid to open my mouth.
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
Lurching Along
Our household has not been so healthy this past week or so. I spent much of last week trying to figure out why I had a constant migraine and why I couldn't get rid of it.
Then I realized I'd been eating chocolate in the form of hot cocoa. On the one hand, it's really nice when my body tells me something isn't good for it. It becomes simple to exclude that from my diet.
On the other hand, a little bit of the fun of winter dies when I can't enjoy hot cocoa.
Friday I left for the weekend to do some gymnastics judging. It was a long weekend of work (although LOADS of fun), and I was very grateful to get home in one piece--we passed a flipped over SUV on our drive home through some very icy roads.
I got home and my daughter was sick. She'd had a blast playing with Baba all weekend. She was actually sick enough that when I told her to cuddle up on the couch with a blanket, she obeyed.
Now I'm sick. Ugh. I sat on the bicycle trainer today for only about a half hour, with the fan pointed at me. I've GOT to get a softer seat. Or a harder rear end.
Then I realized I'd been eating chocolate in the form of hot cocoa. On the one hand, it's really nice when my body tells me something isn't good for it. It becomes simple to exclude that from my diet.
On the other hand, a little bit of the fun of winter dies when I can't enjoy hot cocoa.
Friday I left for the weekend to do some gymnastics judging. It was a long weekend of work (although LOADS of fun), and I was very grateful to get home in one piece--we passed a flipped over SUV on our drive home through some very icy roads.
I got home and my daughter was sick. She'd had a blast playing with Baba all weekend. She was actually sick enough that when I told her to cuddle up on the couch with a blanket, she obeyed.
Now I'm sick. Ugh. I sat on the bicycle trainer today for only about a half hour, with the fan pointed at me. I've GOT to get a softer seat. Or a harder rear end.
Sunday, November 28, 2010
My Physical Condition Is Now Better Than the Dog's
I woke up at about 10:00am, a good 18 hours after I laid down to attempt to get rid of my migraine, and it was finally gone.
My friend called and wanted to go hiking, so I packed up daughter and dog and we went to our usual park. We did not take a usual trail and discovered that although our new route was absolutely beautiful, we will not take it again until spring or summer, when it has dried out, because it was a muddy slippery mess and we're both grateful that we didn't end up sitting in it at any point.
I hydrated better than yesterday and although I don't feel great, I'm certainly not in the state I was yesterday when I got home.
The dog, however, is so worn out she can't even bend over to get to her food or water bowl. I even put rice in her bowl and she looked at it, tried to bend down, gave up, turned to look at me pathetically, then walked away.
I ended up putting the bowl on my daughter's mini chair so the dog could eat.
Poor thing.
That would have been me, though, when I started this, had I just had the past two days of activity that we've had. So now that I'm in better shape than the dog, I'd better start dragging her out more too.
My friend called and wanted to go hiking, so I packed up daughter and dog and we went to our usual park. We did not take a usual trail and discovered that although our new route was absolutely beautiful, we will not take it again until spring or summer, when it has dried out, because it was a muddy slippery mess and we're both grateful that we didn't end up sitting in it at any point.
I hydrated better than yesterday and although I don't feel great, I'm certainly not in the state I was yesterday when I got home.
The dog, however, is so worn out she can't even bend over to get to her food or water bowl. I even put rice in her bowl and she looked at it, tried to bend down, gave up, turned to look at me pathetically, then walked away.
I ended up putting the bowl on my daughter's mini chair so the dog could eat.
Poor thing.
That would have been me, though, when I started this, had I just had the past two days of activity that we've had. So now that I'm in better shape than the dog, I'd better start dragging her out more too.
Saturday, November 27, 2010
Punished for Good Behavior
If you've ever watched an extreme skiing/snowboarding film, you know that they go on and on about fresh, untouched "powder" as if it's the greatest thing on earth.
Obviously, they've never been in such conditions while in snowshoes, dragging a sled with a toddler, and coaxing a dog to follow.
We went up to the mountain today for some early-season snow time. My husband is eager to get in some back-country snowboarding and I'm considering entering a snowshoeing race at the same location in a couple of months. (The event announcement, put out by a group that normally does running events, guarantees that there will be no cars on the course.)
Intending to leave at 9:00am, we packed and loaded the car and set off at about 9:45. Not bad for a family on Moroccan time. I was actually feeling rather proud of myself because last year I'd left all my snow gear in one bag so that I could just grab it and run and not have to look all over for things.
I grabbed everything except for one seemingly minor but actually very critical thing.
Toilet paper.
The permanent outhouses at the snow park we go to are always out, which I forgot until we arrived and needed it. Fortunately, several months ago I had my husband pack extra baby wipes in his car "just in case" he would need them for something, so we weren't totally without creature comforts.
The important business taken care of, we geared up. Last year, I bought some snow pants that barely fit. It was depressing, because they were enormous pants (I still refer to them as my size "Extra Elephant" pants), I had to unzip the side pockets to provide room for my hips, and if I so much as exhaled (no exaggeration), the waist snaps popped open. All this and they are also about a foot too long for my legs. (I could go into a LONG tangent here about how hard it is to find activity-appropriate gear for large people and how the heck are they going to exercise to make change if there is no clothing to do so in comfortably.)
I was extremely pleased to discover that my size extra elephant pants could 1) have the pockets zipped this time, 2) snap and stay snapped, even when bending over or sneezing (I tested both), and 3) even have enough room for 2 layers underneath.
Another challenge last year was getting the snowshoes on and off. The first time I had my husband help because I'd never done it before and didn't know how they buckled. Every time after that, I had to have him help because I couldn't breathe when I bent over in my too-tight snowpants, because I actually needed snowpants in size two extra elephants.
I got my snowshoes on ALL BY MYSELF (I totally sound like my 3-year-old in my head when I say that) AND I was able to breathe while doing it.
Also my pants were still snapped when I stood up.
If that's not progress to celebrate, I don't know what is.
Off we set on the trail. It was a bit challenging since normally it is somewhat groomed, but I don't think they've had a chance to do any grooming yet this year. Even in snowshoes (and I wasn't wearing tiny ones), I was sinking as much as two feet at times. I took a few pictures, we saw a dad and his son that we saw a few times last year, and then my husband wanted to head off around the edge of a bowl on the side of the trail, so he took off with our daughter in the sled and the dog following him.
Already having enough trouble on the "trail" I decided I'd continue up and meet them at the top so I would at least have a little bit of packed trail to go on from the few that had been up earlier in the morning.
I looked over and eventually saw that the dog was really struggling. I called her and as she stopped it looked like she debated whether to run through the loose snow toward me or continue to try to follow my husband's trail. She opted for his trail.
She was completely stuck a few minutes later.
My husband, hands full with our daughter, kept on going, so I decided to play Canine Rescue Crew, which meant working through all the loose powder I'd been trying to avoid in the first place--and going uphill doing so. There were a few points where the angle was such that I was in snow up to my waist and had to back up and kick the snow ahead so I could step forward.
As I got close to our dog, I could hear that she was crying. Worried that she was injured (and how on earth would I carry an 85 pound dog back down out of this if she couldn't walk?) I hurried as best I could.
Thing is, even though I'm in way better shape than last year, with the conditions and my endurance still not fantastic, "hurried" meant move five steps, pant. Five steps, pant. And the dog whimpered some more. "I'm coming, girl!" Five steps, pant.
When I got there, it was clear she wasn't injured but had fallen into a hole where a small tree was bent over and she couldn't get her legs over the tree to get out. So I laid face down in the snow, reached into the hole and pulled up her back legs.
I got lots of slobbery kisses as a thank you.
I then trudged back over my own trail and she followed RIGHT behind me and then ran ahead as I rejoined the slightly-packed trail up the hill.
My husband and daughter took a slow sled run down the bowl (which was too loose of powder for even the sled to work in), I followed after them, attempting to pack a small trail with my snowshoes (then hiked around to get back up). I did another packing hike down the hill before they went down again and they were only slightly more successful at swooshing down the hill. At the end, I think more effort was put into scooting with feet than it would have been to just walk.
At the bottom of the bowl, my daughter announced, "I have to go PEE PEE!"
We were a good half hour from the parking lot, so I offered her the option of doing her pee pee like the doggie. She didn't like that idea, so my husband hooked the sled rope to my back belt loop (which resulted in my pants scooting down).
Amazingly, we made it--dry--all the way to the restroom. I was actually more pleased with this than I was when I realized the hill I'd hiked up TWICE I did without stopping, which I couldn't do last year.
Again, no Olympic feats from this individual, but when my scales are stagnant, I have to take my progress where I can find it so I'm still encouraged.
When we got back to the car, the dog was so exhausted I had to lift her in. My daughter wanted a bag of chips (which I promised her after she finished her sandwich). Five minutes down the road, she fell asleep, sandwich in hand.
Two hours later, as we bumped into our driveway, she burst awake and said, "I WANT MY CHIPS!"
I handed them over, went inside and laid down as another migraine had kicked in on the drive. It woke up six hours later but was still miserable.
I didn't think I'd pushed myself that hard--I got winded a few times, but really I could have done more. It's hard not to get frustrated that while I'm doing something that should be long-term good for me, I feel like I get penalized by my own body with these migraines.
So a good day in the snow, and probably time to get back to the naturopath again.
Obviously, they've never been in such conditions while in snowshoes, dragging a sled with a toddler, and coaxing a dog to follow.
We went up to the mountain today for some early-season snow time. My husband is eager to get in some back-country snowboarding and I'm considering entering a snowshoeing race at the same location in a couple of months. (The event announcement, put out by a group that normally does running events, guarantees that there will be no cars on the course.)
Intending to leave at 9:00am, we packed and loaded the car and set off at about 9:45. Not bad for a family on Moroccan time. I was actually feeling rather proud of myself because last year I'd left all my snow gear in one bag so that I could just grab it and run and not have to look all over for things.
I grabbed everything except for one seemingly minor but actually very critical thing.
Toilet paper.
The permanent outhouses at the snow park we go to are always out, which I forgot until we arrived and needed it. Fortunately, several months ago I had my husband pack extra baby wipes in his car "just in case" he would need them for something, so we weren't totally without creature comforts.
The important business taken care of, we geared up. Last year, I bought some snow pants that barely fit. It was depressing, because they were enormous pants (I still refer to them as my size "Extra Elephant" pants), I had to unzip the side pockets to provide room for my hips, and if I so much as exhaled (no exaggeration), the waist snaps popped open. All this and they are also about a foot too long for my legs. (I could go into a LONG tangent here about how hard it is to find activity-appropriate gear for large people and how the heck are they going to exercise to make change if there is no clothing to do so in comfortably.)
I was extremely pleased to discover that my size extra elephant pants could 1) have the pockets zipped this time, 2) snap and stay snapped, even when bending over or sneezing (I tested both), and 3) even have enough room for 2 layers underneath.
Another challenge last year was getting the snowshoes on and off. The first time I had my husband help because I'd never done it before and didn't know how they buckled. Every time after that, I had to have him help because I couldn't breathe when I bent over in my too-tight snowpants, because I actually needed snowpants in size two extra elephants.
I got my snowshoes on ALL BY MYSELF (I totally sound like my 3-year-old in my head when I say that) AND I was able to breathe while doing it.
Also my pants were still snapped when I stood up.
If that's not progress to celebrate, I don't know what is.
Off we set on the trail. It was a bit challenging since normally it is somewhat groomed, but I don't think they've had a chance to do any grooming yet this year. Even in snowshoes (and I wasn't wearing tiny ones), I was sinking as much as two feet at times. I took a few pictures, we saw a dad and his son that we saw a few times last year, and then my husband wanted to head off around the edge of a bowl on the side of the trail, so he took off with our daughter in the sled and the dog following him.
Already having enough trouble on the "trail" I decided I'd continue up and meet them at the top so I would at least have a little bit of packed trail to go on from the few that had been up earlier in the morning.
I looked over and eventually saw that the dog was really struggling. I called her and as she stopped it looked like she debated whether to run through the loose snow toward me or continue to try to follow my husband's trail. She opted for his trail.
She was completely stuck a few minutes later.
My husband, hands full with our daughter, kept on going, so I decided to play Canine Rescue Crew, which meant working through all the loose powder I'd been trying to avoid in the first place--and going uphill doing so. There were a few points where the angle was such that I was in snow up to my waist and had to back up and kick the snow ahead so I could step forward.
As I got close to our dog, I could hear that she was crying. Worried that she was injured (and how on earth would I carry an 85 pound dog back down out of this if she couldn't walk?) I hurried as best I could.
Thing is, even though I'm in way better shape than last year, with the conditions and my endurance still not fantastic, "hurried" meant move five steps, pant. Five steps, pant. And the dog whimpered some more. "I'm coming, girl!" Five steps, pant.
When I got there, it was clear she wasn't injured but had fallen into a hole where a small tree was bent over and she couldn't get her legs over the tree to get out. So I laid face down in the snow, reached into the hole and pulled up her back legs.
I got lots of slobbery kisses as a thank you.
I then trudged back over my own trail and she followed RIGHT behind me and then ran ahead as I rejoined the slightly-packed trail up the hill.
My husband and daughter took a slow sled run down the bowl (which was too loose of powder for even the sled to work in), I followed after them, attempting to pack a small trail with my snowshoes (then hiked around to get back up). I did another packing hike down the hill before they went down again and they were only slightly more successful at swooshing down the hill. At the end, I think more effort was put into scooting with feet than it would have been to just walk.
At the bottom of the bowl, my daughter announced, "I have to go PEE PEE!"
We were a good half hour from the parking lot, so I offered her the option of doing her pee pee like the doggie. She didn't like that idea, so my husband hooked the sled rope to my back belt loop (which resulted in my pants scooting down).
Amazingly, we made it--dry--all the way to the restroom. I was actually more pleased with this than I was when I realized the hill I'd hiked up TWICE I did without stopping, which I couldn't do last year.
Again, no Olympic feats from this individual, but when my scales are stagnant, I have to take my progress where I can find it so I'm still encouraged.
When we got back to the car, the dog was so exhausted I had to lift her in. My daughter wanted a bag of chips (which I promised her after she finished her sandwich). Five minutes down the road, she fell asleep, sandwich in hand.
Two hours later, as we bumped into our driveway, she burst awake and said, "I WANT MY CHIPS!"
I handed them over, went inside and laid down as another migraine had kicked in on the drive. It woke up six hours later but was still miserable.
I didn't think I'd pushed myself that hard--I got winded a few times, but really I could have done more. It's hard not to get frustrated that while I'm doing something that should be long-term good for me, I feel like I get penalized by my own body with these migraines.
So a good day in the snow, and probably time to get back to the naturopath again.
Friday, November 26, 2010
Not a Shopping Day for Us
Another early morning for me as I spent the night at my dad's place after Thanksgiving so I could drive my sister up to the airport. We left my dad's place at 3:45 in the morning, which means I was up even more obscenely early than yesterday.
I came home and slept for another four hours and got up at a nice lazy 10:00am.
My daughter and I got dressed and headed to my husband's food cart, where he was working. It's the first time I've had a chance to go, even though they've been open for a month now. Since I've seen the menu, I know what I would order, but decided instead to have him make something for me of his choice.
I got a beef merguez sandwich. It was really good--although definitely not what I would have ordered on my own. The wind was biting cold, so we left a little while later.
Except for getting some bow supplies, I did no shopping at all.
Which was okay for the wallet, but shopping would at least have been more physical activity than I got.
In different news, the neighbor handed down a bicycle attachment that is for a little one to ride on. It has handlebars and pedals (in addition to a seat), and clamps on to the seat post of an adult bike.
So now I've got an indoor trainer and an outdoor attachment, so there's no excuse not to be biking...
...unless, of course, I go back to the list of excuses I used to make for myself. I guess I'd better get to doing something.
I came home and slept for another four hours and got up at a nice lazy 10:00am.
My daughter and I got dressed and headed to my husband's food cart, where he was working. It's the first time I've had a chance to go, even though they've been open for a month now. Since I've seen the menu, I know what I would order, but decided instead to have him make something for me of his choice.
I got a beef merguez sandwich. It was really good--although definitely not what I would have ordered on my own. The wind was biting cold, so we left a little while later.
Except for getting some bow supplies, I did no shopping at all.
Which was okay for the wallet, but shopping would at least have been more physical activity than I got.
In different news, the neighbor handed down a bicycle attachment that is for a little one to ride on. It has handlebars and pedals (in addition to a seat), and clamps on to the seat post of an adult bike.
So now I've got an indoor trainer and an outdoor attachment, so there's no excuse not to be biking...
...unless, of course, I go back to the list of excuses I used to make for myself. I guess I'd better get to doing something.
Thursday, November 25, 2010
Yay Me. I Can Keep Up With a Toddler. Woo.
This morning I got up obscenely early (for me, anyway), hauled my daughter out of bed and drove about 80 miles to get to a "Turkey Trot." It was a 5K run for teens and adults and a 1K "Gobbler Dash" for 12 and unders.
I dressed for the weather, which was cold. I had on some good socks (picked up as a giveaway last year, but they are fantastic) and some ancient hiking boots. The boots belonged to my aunt about 20 years ago and when she was done with them, gave them to me--and I've had them for probably about 15 years. I put them on because I didn't know what the weather would be like and knew I would be warm, even though I swear each boot weighs about 5 pounds. Anyway, had on warm pants and a couple of shirts, and layered my daughter similarly.
My sister was running the 5K--despite her urgings for me to run it and my goals, I declined as I know I'm not ready to run the full distance. I did, however, let her enter my daughter in the 1K so that the cousins could do it together.
My sister did quite well (probably only the 7th woman to cross the finish line), but they haven't posted results yet, so I'm not yet sure how well. Then it was time for the little ones. When the gun went off, my nephew took off like a shot--so fast that my sister couldn't keep up with the jogger stroller and she yelled at me to keep my nephew on the course if we caught up to him.
We never did.
I was very proud of my daughter, who ran the whole way. A 1K is just over a half mile (.6 miles), which I knew she could do, but wasn't sure she could do running.
She can.
Know what? So can I. I realized, as I was jogging the race with her, that it is the farthest distance I've run in possibly a decade, and while keeping up with a 3-year-old is nothing to brag about normally, for me, it was actually yet another step in the right direction.
Know what else?
I think I could have gone 1) faster and 2) longer.
Even with my ancient heavy-duty hand-me-down hiking boots.
I'm really trying not to dwell on the fact that keeping up with a toddler is not a huge athletic feat, but rather that it is a definite change in my abilities since I started this blog.
Because if I couldn't look at it positively, I'd get pretty depressed instead.
Woo. Yay me.
I dressed for the weather, which was cold. I had on some good socks (picked up as a giveaway last year, but they are fantastic) and some ancient hiking boots. The boots belonged to my aunt about 20 years ago and when she was done with them, gave them to me--and I've had them for probably about 15 years. I put them on because I didn't know what the weather would be like and knew I would be warm, even though I swear each boot weighs about 5 pounds. Anyway, had on warm pants and a couple of shirts, and layered my daughter similarly.
My sister was running the 5K--despite her urgings for me to run it and my goals, I declined as I know I'm not ready to run the full distance. I did, however, let her enter my daughter in the 1K so that the cousins could do it together.
My sister did quite well (probably only the 7th woman to cross the finish line), but they haven't posted results yet, so I'm not yet sure how well. Then it was time for the little ones. When the gun went off, my nephew took off like a shot--so fast that my sister couldn't keep up with the jogger stroller and she yelled at me to keep my nephew on the course if we caught up to him.
We never did.
I was very proud of my daughter, who ran the whole way. A 1K is just over a half mile (.6 miles), which I knew she could do, but wasn't sure she could do running.
She can.
Know what? So can I. I realized, as I was jogging the race with her, that it is the farthest distance I've run in possibly a decade, and while keeping up with a 3-year-old is nothing to brag about normally, for me, it was actually yet another step in the right direction.
Know what else?
I think I could have gone 1) faster and 2) longer.
Even with my ancient heavy-duty hand-me-down hiking boots.
I'm really trying not to dwell on the fact that keeping up with a toddler is not a huge athletic feat, but rather that it is a definite change in my abilities since I started this blog.
Because if I couldn't look at it positively, I'd get pretty depressed instead.
Woo. Yay me.
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Now We're Getting Serious
Back before I started any of this, I enrolled my daughter in a preschool and swore I would walk her there daily, rain or shine. I figured it would be good for me and the dog and nice "bonding" time with my daughter, good for memories (at least for me) for years to come.
Then I tried actually walking it.
It isn't far--only about .6 miles from our house, but when I started this, .1 miles was enough to put me on the couch for the rest of the evening I was in so much pain.
I started this project, can move, .6 miles (and back) no big deal, even twice a day, yay. At least, for me.
I can walk to the school in about 10 minutes. My daughter, on the other hand, makes the trip in about 15, and that's with a lot of coaxing of the "I bet you can't beat me!" form.
After school, it was taking about an HOUR to get home. Since I was taking the dog and had to carry her tote bag and other things, I couldn't carry her, and she was often in tears at about halfway.
Some memories I was making.
I started putting her in the backpack carrier I use when hiking and that helped a lot since she would fall asleep in it. Until I hauled her out to try and transfer her to her room for a nap. It would fully wake her up and I'd have a grouchy toddler preventing me from getting anything done the rest of the day.
So I caved. And drove.
Today at least it was on the premise that I would be running errands in between dropping her off and picking her up except that I left my coupons and list at home and had to go back.
To make up for it, I decided to install the bike trainer I bought in the living room. I really liked the one I used at my sister's house because we just plopped the bike in and took off.
The one I got is a fancier model, meaning more complicated. I had to replace a part and then I have to go through this whole adjusting and tightening routine to get it into the trainer, and then more adjusting and tightening so that it doesn't "slip" when I use it.
I have it figured out now, but it took me so long to set it up that it was time for bed before I got to use it.
But my living room at least looks like I'm serious.
Then I tried actually walking it.
It isn't far--only about .6 miles from our house, but when I started this, .1 miles was enough to put me on the couch for the rest of the evening I was in so much pain.
I started this project, can move, .6 miles (and back) no big deal, even twice a day, yay. At least, for me.
I can walk to the school in about 10 minutes. My daughter, on the other hand, makes the trip in about 15, and that's with a lot of coaxing of the "I bet you can't beat me!" form.
After school, it was taking about an HOUR to get home. Since I was taking the dog and had to carry her tote bag and other things, I couldn't carry her, and she was often in tears at about halfway.
Some memories I was making.
I started putting her in the backpack carrier I use when hiking and that helped a lot since she would fall asleep in it. Until I hauled her out to try and transfer her to her room for a nap. It would fully wake her up and I'd have a grouchy toddler preventing me from getting anything done the rest of the day.
So I caved. And drove.
Today at least it was on the premise that I would be running errands in between dropping her off and picking her up except that I left my coupons and list at home and had to go back.
To make up for it, I decided to install the bike trainer I bought in the living room. I really liked the one I used at my sister's house because we just plopped the bike in and took off.
The one I got is a fancier model, meaning more complicated. I had to replace a part and then I have to go through this whole adjusting and tightening routine to get it into the trainer, and then more adjusting and tightening so that it doesn't "slip" when I use it.
I have it figured out now, but it took me so long to set it up that it was time for bed before I got to use it.
But my living room at least looks like I'm serious.
Monday, November 15, 2010
Perspectives
Since I'm really still in the middle of this journey--even though I completed my initial goal (of finishing a triathlon)--I'm still spending a lot of time thinking about how I got from the fitness level(s) I've been at to where I was and where I am.
Ironically, I was watching the episode of Ellen (de Generes) where she interviewed her wife Portia de Rossi about Portia's new book, Unbearable Lightness. I don't want to inaccurately summarize the show since it has now been a couple of weeks since watching it, or do any injustice to her book (which I have not yet read), but what struck me was an audience question to Portia about how to broach the subject of an eating disorder with someone who may be suffering from one.
Portia's answer was along the lines of saying that what would have resonated with her was if someone had told her she looked "sick" or "unhealthy." That when people referred to her as "too thin" she could still look in the mirror and see her flaws.
My prior description of this blog was intended as a joke, poking fun at myself: Hippopotamus to Healthy. And while I needed to lose a LOT of weight then, and still do (although I'm definitely at least on my way now), here's the thing.
I didn't, and still don't, perceive myself as "unhealthy."
Yes, I am aware of the health problems associated with obesity and being overweight. Heart problems, diabetes, joint issues, and blood pressure, to name just a few.
To me, unhealthy is SICK. As in I have a cough or a cold or the flu. Or a terminal disease.
I don't even classify injuries as "unhealthy" or "sick" but just a localized issue, even if dealing with it causes problems elsewhere in the body.
So if I don't see myself as unhealthy, it's really hard to make a change. The number of times my dad and sister told me how proud they were of me that I'm making a change for my health even sounded bizarre to me. In my head, I wasn't (and am not) "sick," so "getting healthy" isn't something I could/can do.
So while Portia's advice to tell an anorexic person they look "sick" because of their misperceptions about their body, I started wondering what would work, in a similar fashion, for someone who is overweight.
And I really don't know. I, like so many overweight people, get upset, offended, and hurt by people trying to "help" telling me--kindly or unkindly--that I need to lose weight, I need to do it for my health, I'm putting myself at risk, blah blah blah. Because I know all of those things. I avoid looking in mirrors because it's depressing, and I avoid buying clothes because it's depressing.
Ironically, the push of certain groups to make the media more accepting of "realistic" body types (as opposed to living mannequins) even makes me feel like my weight is more "normal." And while obesity is becoming so much more common that it may technically be normal in that it is a majority of the population, this doesn't mean it should be the norm.
Even with all the health reasons I was aware of, even with avoiding mirrors, hating seeing myself in photos (still do), losing weight as a stand-along goal was not (and still is not) enough for me.
Having gained and lost before, I know how "good" it feels to fit into clothes that look good on me and not hate seeing myself in a picture. I was still critical of myself even then though.
So I'm still fighting warped perspectives. Portia de Rossi was one end of the spectrum. I'm on the other. Navigating a way to that middle ground is such a difficult road.
Since my perspectives are still warped (I've got somewhere around 70 pounds left to lose), I still NEED goal-oriented motivation that is a competitive event. A goal of fitting into this one cute dress that's been on a hanger for the last 6 years isn't enough--and if that's my only goal, I will likely stop right now in this process.
So I have to keep signing up for events, getting ready for them, and DOING them. It's the only way I will truly get to healthy, and hopefully by time I get there, my perspective will be healthier too.
Ironically, I was watching the episode of Ellen (de Generes) where she interviewed her wife Portia de Rossi about Portia's new book, Unbearable Lightness. I don't want to inaccurately summarize the show since it has now been a couple of weeks since watching it, or do any injustice to her book (which I have not yet read), but what struck me was an audience question to Portia about how to broach the subject of an eating disorder with someone who may be suffering from one.
Portia's answer was along the lines of saying that what would have resonated with her was if someone had told her she looked "sick" or "unhealthy." That when people referred to her as "too thin" she could still look in the mirror and see her flaws.
My prior description of this blog was intended as a joke, poking fun at myself: Hippopotamus to Healthy. And while I needed to lose a LOT of weight then, and still do (although I'm definitely at least on my way now), here's the thing.
I didn't, and still don't, perceive myself as "unhealthy."
Yes, I am aware of the health problems associated with obesity and being overweight. Heart problems, diabetes, joint issues, and blood pressure, to name just a few.
To me, unhealthy is SICK. As in I have a cough or a cold or the flu. Or a terminal disease.
I don't even classify injuries as "unhealthy" or "sick" but just a localized issue, even if dealing with it causes problems elsewhere in the body.
So if I don't see myself as unhealthy, it's really hard to make a change. The number of times my dad and sister told me how proud they were of me that I'm making a change for my health even sounded bizarre to me. In my head, I wasn't (and am not) "sick," so "getting healthy" isn't something I could/can do.
So while Portia's advice to tell an anorexic person they look "sick" because of their misperceptions about their body, I started wondering what would work, in a similar fashion, for someone who is overweight.
And I really don't know. I, like so many overweight people, get upset, offended, and hurt by people trying to "help" telling me--kindly or unkindly--that I need to lose weight, I need to do it for my health, I'm putting myself at risk, blah blah blah. Because I know all of those things. I avoid looking in mirrors because it's depressing, and I avoid buying clothes because it's depressing.
Ironically, the push of certain groups to make the media more accepting of "realistic" body types (as opposed to living mannequins) even makes me feel like my weight is more "normal." And while obesity is becoming so much more common that it may technically be normal in that it is a majority of the population, this doesn't mean it should be the norm.
Even with all the health reasons I was aware of, even with avoiding mirrors, hating seeing myself in photos (still do), losing weight as a stand-along goal was not (and still is not) enough for me.
Having gained and lost before, I know how "good" it feels to fit into clothes that look good on me and not hate seeing myself in a picture. I was still critical of myself even then though.
So I'm still fighting warped perspectives. Portia de Rossi was one end of the spectrum. I'm on the other. Navigating a way to that middle ground is such a difficult road.
Since my perspectives are still warped (I've got somewhere around 70 pounds left to lose), I still NEED goal-oriented motivation that is a competitive event. A goal of fitting into this one cute dress that's been on a hanger for the last 6 years isn't enough--and if that's my only goal, I will likely stop right now in this process.
So I have to keep signing up for events, getting ready for them, and DOING them. It's the only way I will truly get to healthy, and hopefully by time I get there, my perspective will be healthier too.
Saturday, November 6, 2010
Determined or Delusional? A Little Bit of Both, I Think
So now I know.
Yes.
I can finish a triathlon.
So it took me almost 2.5 hours to finish. And I came in second to last in my division.
But I did it.
Here's the rundown (or, er, walkdown, as it was in my case).
Got up about 6:00 and started getting ready organizing things I couldn't do last night. Woke up my daughter, washed and dressed her, loaded up all my gear for the triathlon, and walked down to the transition area, where security was already in full force.
I didn't have my orange wristband on, so they didn't want to let me in. Prepared for this, but having forgotten which side it was supposed to be on, I pulled it out and asked. Turns out it didn't matter. It did, however, matter that I had my daughter with me. I asked if I could bring her in since obviously, I couldn't leave a 3-year-old alone on the sidewalk. Because she was so young, they did let her in, but when she saw me putting on my bracelet, she said, "Mom, I want a bracelet, too!"
Just as I was beginning to explain that I was sorry she couldn't have one, a security guy said, "I can get you one right over here." She was THRILLED.
This should have been my first hint that my big moment of today would end up being about her and not me.
On the way over to my section of the transition area, I came across another security volunteer, who eyed my daughter suspiciously. Seeing his look, I said, "They said she could come in to set up my transition area with me."
He said, "That's fine, but do you have someone to watch her during the race?"
Rather than going into a long explanation about Dad ending up staying in a different hotel, not having met up with them yet this morning, blah blah blah, I just replied, "Oh yes, of course. He just didn't want to get out of bed this early."
To which the guy laughed and let us pass.
I took my time setting up my transition area and when I was satisfied with the setup, I went and got bodymarked (this was new to me--it's when they write your number on you to identify you and for security). Again, my daughter wanted her OWN markings. They drew a smiley face on her arm.
Hint #2 that today might not end up being about me.
Finished with all the details I could take care of, I headed out for breakfast. I ran into my sister's family and my dad. My sister still hadn't set up her area, so Dad came with me and my daughter to eat breakfast.
Then it was a bunch of semi-nervous running around time, making sure everything was in place, eventually having my sister haul me into my rented wetsuit, testing it out in the water (SO thankful for the wetsuit because it was COLD, but tolerable with the suit). I swam for just a little ways to see if I could adjust to all my new things: noseplug, new swim cap (given to us and required for the event), wetsuit, and open water.
I felt okay.
Mine was the last "wave" to start the swim. Before our start gun went off, there were already people from the first wave into the bicycle portion of the event.
At least I didn't have any delusions about winning or anything.
When our start finally went off for the swim, I waded in and started swimming and realized what a newbie total dork I was.
I'd taken my goggles off my eyes and perched them on my forehead.
And left them there when I started swimming.
I stopped, stood up, put my STUPID goggles back over my eyes, and started again.
I didn't get far before I was getting tired, but swore to myself I would NOT hang on to a lifeguard apparatus. Unless I was going to otherwise drown, of course, but if I was tired, I was going to do a "rest" stroke.
I ended up doing a lot of breast stroke because it was actually a lot of work. I think I may have "fought" the buoyancy of the wetsuit some. Anyway, after the first marker in the water, I was tired enough that I flipped over to my back and kicked to rest.
The gentle rocking of the waves nearly made me hurl I got motion sick so quickly. Rolled back over to my stomach and started swimming again.
Swam over a couple of schools of fish.
Between boats.
Passed an orange cap! (Hey! They started 3 minutes before me! Yay me, I passed someone!)
Passed a white cap! 6 minutes before my start.
Passed a RED cap! 9 minutes before my start.
Okay, so they were REALLY slow swimmers, because I got 15th out of 22 on the swim for my division, but I passed someone.
Swim took me just under 20 minutes. Slow, but better than I'd expected.
When I got to the end of the swim, THANK GOODNESS for the railing or I wouldn't have been able to walk. I staggered to my transition space, trying to pull off my wetsuit (couldn't grab the zipper pull that had kept getting in the way over my shoulder during the swim). Got there, pulled on my shirt, ate a package of Sharkies (thank goodness for Sharkies), drank some water, and got on the bike.
Transition took me a little over 6 minutes.
My one goal on the bike was to keep pedaling. Keep pedaling. Weirdly, Dory from "Finding Nemo" started running through my head saying, "Keep on swimming, keep on swimming, keep on swimming swimming swimming." A little bit late on the actual event, but it was what I was doing with pedaling, and as I passed people walking their bikes, I decided I would NOT get off the bike to walk (again, except to prevent a crash).
The first loop of the bike there were a TON of people ZOOMING down the hill on the other side, some kindly saying "on your left" and others (not so kindly) shouting "LEFT! LEFT! GET OVER!" I will admit, even though I was going pretty slow (only 4 mph at a couple of points), I was awfully annoyed with the "friend" pairs who decided to ride side-by-side preventing people from passing.
And if I wanted to pass, trust me, they were obstructing the race.
The second loop of the bike there were only a few LEFT shouts and a lot more people yelling positive encouragement on the way down to those working on the way up. It was actually easier for me than the first loop--in part because I knew what to expect, and perhaps because the energy from the Sharkies was kicking in.
The third loop was pretty close to quiet. I knew if going downhill I was seeing people coming uphill, they'd really struggled somewhere along the way, so I began yelling encouragement at them.
The bike took me nearly an hour, just over 59 minutes. Heh.
Transition to the "run" (in quotes because I did not, I walked) went okay. I kinda sauntered along and even took a water bottle because I knew I'd need it. I also truly didn't know if the "comfort level" I was feeling was a temporary delusion or if I was really okay--I didn't want to push myself, drop and collapse when I was so close to meeting my goal of just finishing.
My sister met me on the hill that is referred to as "the wall" on my first loop. She and my nephew walked up the wall with me.
On my second loop, the whole course was quiet--and nearly disassembled in some parts, with cars, golf carts, and non-racing pedestrians sharing the streets. I tried jogging a bit, but found myself tripping over my feet. Walking was fine. Jogging wasn't so much tiring as I was seriously afraid I was going to faceplant as my coordinational skills were becoming challenged.
Just before I got to the wall on my second lap, I started crying.
I was suddenly overcome. I reflected on where I was, physically and mentally, back in May, and how even though I'd set out to do this, I hadn't even really believed that I could at all. I had no faith that I would have the drive, desire, or ability to do what I was very nearly done completing. The more I thought about it, the more I cried. I have come so far. Lately I'd been saying, "well, I've come a long ways, but I still have a ways to go." And the only thing in my head (besides I hope people don't see me crying) was how utterly proud of myself I was. How good I felt about myself in that moment, and how maybe I should set my sights even higher, because if I could do this, there are so many other things I could achieve if I just set out to DO it.
Then I saw the water station ahead and composed myself so I wouldn't look silly or have to explain as I chugged water. But I was still very proud of myself, because I KNEW I could finish now.
Nearly at the end, my dad put down my daughter and she ran for me. They'd prepped her well, so she knew she was supposed to be with me, but run for the finish line. I told her, "If you run, I'll keep up with you."
She's pretty fast for 3, and I'd done quite a bit, especially considering how far I've come since I started this, so that was actually a challenge for me.
I ran about the last 50 yards with her. As we were getting close, I heard the announcer call my race number and name, and then he said something like, "And this is what these events are all about! Look at this family support, her daughter pacing her into the finish line!" People started clapping and cheering. I was feeling so excited at the support of that crowd for one of the last people to cross the line as the announcer continued, "And 607 crosses the line with her coach, personal trainer, and moral support!" And the crowd cheered more.
I had so much fun finishing it wasn't until I was nearly back at my bike in the transition area that I realized the crowd wasn't cheering for me, but for the cute 3-year-old at my side.
Oh well. I did it.
The rest of the day was pretty relaxing--cleaned up and put away my race gear at the hotel, had lunch, drew on my race shirt, had my family sign it, relaxed in the hot tub at my sister's hotel, had a nice walk back and dinner with my daughter, and it wasn't until I laid down for bed I started feeling sore.
Uh oh.
No epsom salts or Amazing Dr. Amy to fix me here.
Hope I can move tomorrow.
But I DID IT.
Yes.
I can finish a triathlon.
So it took me almost 2.5 hours to finish. And I came in second to last in my division.
But I did it.
Here's the rundown (or, er, walkdown, as it was in my case).
Got up about 6:00 and started getting ready organizing things I couldn't do last night. Woke up my daughter, washed and dressed her, loaded up all my gear for the triathlon, and walked down to the transition area, where security was already in full force.
I didn't have my orange wristband on, so they didn't want to let me in. Prepared for this, but having forgotten which side it was supposed to be on, I pulled it out and asked. Turns out it didn't matter. It did, however, matter that I had my daughter with me. I asked if I could bring her in since obviously, I couldn't leave a 3-year-old alone on the sidewalk. Because she was so young, they did let her in, but when she saw me putting on my bracelet, she said, "Mom, I want a bracelet, too!"
Just as I was beginning to explain that I was sorry she couldn't have one, a security guy said, "I can get you one right over here." She was THRILLED.
This should have been my first hint that my big moment of today would end up being about her and not me.
On the way over to my section of the transition area, I came across another security volunteer, who eyed my daughter suspiciously. Seeing his look, I said, "They said she could come in to set up my transition area with me."
He said, "That's fine, but do you have someone to watch her during the race?"
Rather than going into a long explanation about Dad ending up staying in a different hotel, not having met up with them yet this morning, blah blah blah, I just replied, "Oh yes, of course. He just didn't want to get out of bed this early."
To which the guy laughed and let us pass.
I took my time setting up my transition area and when I was satisfied with the setup, I went and got bodymarked (this was new to me--it's when they write your number on you to identify you and for security). Again, my daughter wanted her OWN markings. They drew a smiley face on her arm.
Hint #2 that today might not end up being about me.
Finished with all the details I could take care of, I headed out for breakfast. I ran into my sister's family and my dad. My sister still hadn't set up her area, so Dad came with me and my daughter to eat breakfast.
Then it was a bunch of semi-nervous running around time, making sure everything was in place, eventually having my sister haul me into my rented wetsuit, testing it out in the water (SO thankful for the wetsuit because it was COLD, but tolerable with the suit). I swam for just a little ways to see if I could adjust to all my new things: noseplug, new swim cap (given to us and required for the event), wetsuit, and open water.
I felt okay.
Mine was the last "wave" to start the swim. Before our start gun went off, there were already people from the first wave into the bicycle portion of the event.
At least I didn't have any delusions about winning or anything.
When our start finally went off for the swim, I waded in and started swimming and realized what a newbie total dork I was.
I'd taken my goggles off my eyes and perched them on my forehead.
And left them there when I started swimming.
I stopped, stood up, put my STUPID goggles back over my eyes, and started again.
I didn't get far before I was getting tired, but swore to myself I would NOT hang on to a lifeguard apparatus. Unless I was going to otherwise drown, of course, but if I was tired, I was going to do a "rest" stroke.
I ended up doing a lot of breast stroke because it was actually a lot of work. I think I may have "fought" the buoyancy of the wetsuit some. Anyway, after the first marker in the water, I was tired enough that I flipped over to my back and kicked to rest.
The gentle rocking of the waves nearly made me hurl I got motion sick so quickly. Rolled back over to my stomach and started swimming again.
Swam over a couple of schools of fish.
Between boats.
Passed an orange cap! (Hey! They started 3 minutes before me! Yay me, I passed someone!)
Passed a white cap! 6 minutes before my start.
Passed a RED cap! 9 minutes before my start.
Okay, so they were REALLY slow swimmers, because I got 15th out of 22 on the swim for my division, but I passed someone.
Swim took me just under 20 minutes. Slow, but better than I'd expected.
When I got to the end of the swim, THANK GOODNESS for the railing or I wouldn't have been able to walk. I staggered to my transition space, trying to pull off my wetsuit (couldn't grab the zipper pull that had kept getting in the way over my shoulder during the swim). Got there, pulled on my shirt, ate a package of Sharkies (thank goodness for Sharkies), drank some water, and got on the bike.
Transition took me a little over 6 minutes.
My one goal on the bike was to keep pedaling. Keep pedaling. Weirdly, Dory from "Finding Nemo" started running through my head saying, "Keep on swimming, keep on swimming, keep on swimming swimming swimming." A little bit late on the actual event, but it was what I was doing with pedaling, and as I passed people walking their bikes, I decided I would NOT get off the bike to walk (again, except to prevent a crash).
The first loop of the bike there were a TON of people ZOOMING down the hill on the other side, some kindly saying "on your left" and others (not so kindly) shouting "LEFT! LEFT! GET OVER!" I will admit, even though I was going pretty slow (only 4 mph at a couple of points), I was awfully annoyed with the "friend" pairs who decided to ride side-by-side preventing people from passing.
And if I wanted to pass, trust me, they were obstructing the race.
The second loop of the bike there were only a few LEFT shouts and a lot more people yelling positive encouragement on the way down to those working on the way up. It was actually easier for me than the first loop--in part because I knew what to expect, and perhaps because the energy from the Sharkies was kicking in.
The third loop was pretty close to quiet. I knew if going downhill I was seeing people coming uphill, they'd really struggled somewhere along the way, so I began yelling encouragement at them.
The bike took me nearly an hour, just over 59 minutes. Heh.
Transition to the "run" (in quotes because I did not, I walked) went okay. I kinda sauntered along and even took a water bottle because I knew I'd need it. I also truly didn't know if the "comfort level" I was feeling was a temporary delusion or if I was really okay--I didn't want to push myself, drop and collapse when I was so close to meeting my goal of just finishing.
My sister met me on the hill that is referred to as "the wall" on my first loop. She and my nephew walked up the wall with me.
On my second loop, the whole course was quiet--and nearly disassembled in some parts, with cars, golf carts, and non-racing pedestrians sharing the streets. I tried jogging a bit, but found myself tripping over my feet. Walking was fine. Jogging wasn't so much tiring as I was seriously afraid I was going to faceplant as my coordinational skills were becoming challenged.
Just before I got to the wall on my second lap, I started crying.
I was suddenly overcome. I reflected on where I was, physically and mentally, back in May, and how even though I'd set out to do this, I hadn't even really believed that I could at all. I had no faith that I would have the drive, desire, or ability to do what I was very nearly done completing. The more I thought about it, the more I cried. I have come so far. Lately I'd been saying, "well, I've come a long ways, but I still have a ways to go." And the only thing in my head (besides I hope people don't see me crying) was how utterly proud of myself I was. How good I felt about myself in that moment, and how maybe I should set my sights even higher, because if I could do this, there are so many other things I could achieve if I just set out to DO it.
Then I saw the water station ahead and composed myself so I wouldn't look silly or have to explain as I chugged water. But I was still very proud of myself, because I KNEW I could finish now.
Nearly at the end, my dad put down my daughter and she ran for me. They'd prepped her well, so she knew she was supposed to be with me, but run for the finish line. I told her, "If you run, I'll keep up with you."
She's pretty fast for 3, and I'd done quite a bit, especially considering how far I've come since I started this, so that was actually a challenge for me.
I ran about the last 50 yards with her. As we were getting close, I heard the announcer call my race number and name, and then he said something like, "And this is what these events are all about! Look at this family support, her daughter pacing her into the finish line!" People started clapping and cheering. I was feeling so excited at the support of that crowd for one of the last people to cross the line as the announcer continued, "And 607 crosses the line with her coach, personal trainer, and moral support!" And the crowd cheered more.
I had so much fun finishing it wasn't until I was nearly back at my bike in the transition area that I realized the crowd wasn't cheering for me, but for the cute 3-year-old at my side.
Oh well. I did it.
The rest of the day was pretty relaxing--cleaned up and put away my race gear at the hotel, had lunch, drew on my race shirt, had my family sign it, relaxed in the hot tub at my sister's hotel, had a nice walk back and dinner with my daughter, and it wasn't until I laid down for bed I started feeling sore.
Uh oh.
No epsom salts or Amazing Dr. Amy to fix me here.
Hope I can move tomorrow.
But I DID IT.
Friday, November 5, 2010
No Turning Back. I'm Stuck On an Island.
This morning my daughter and I got up, ate, said a quick goodbye to our friends and took off from San Diego.
Before leaving, we had to stop at a state park to try and take pictures for my sister to help in her defense against a $475 ticket for walking her dog. Long story.
In the process, I got lost, couldn't reach my sister by phone, and then when I did, thought I was going to get a ticket myself for blowing through a stop sign. Fortunately there was no one there to catch me.
It ended up taking about an hour of our trip time back and then I opted to NOT take the $4.75 toll road again. We arrived at my sister's house just before noon.
It was a madhouse, everyone running around--and my sister wasn't even home as she was dropping her dog off at the kennel.
We loaded up two cars with 3 bikes, 3 kids, 4 adults, triathlon gear for 2, baby supplies, and then just the regular stuff that is required on a trip with that many people (clothing, snacks, etc.)
We got to the ferry terminal and I don't know how many times I heard my dad sigh though his teeth and say, "Boy, this has got to be the most disorganized mess I've ever seen at a ferry!" Actually, it was quite a bit of chaos and long lines and irritable people.
The ride there was nice and we were even surrounded by jumping dolphins for a little while, which seemed to excite everyone on board.
Finally on Catalina Island, we unloaded and then went our separate ways. From the map we were given on board, it appeared that my sister's hotel was up at the top of the hill and ours, while not at the top of the hill, was on the other side of the bay, and only halfway up the hill.
I ended up putting my daughter on the bike seat and she held on to my arm for dear life. I was also hauling two bags over my shoulder while my dad hauled a suitcase and bag.
I was so exhausted when we got to our hotel that I had NO IDEA how I was going to make it through three events tomorrow--until I realized I would have no toddler or luggage to bring with me. Still, it was actually kinda tough.
Our hotel room was on the very bottom level, which would seem like it would be convenient, until you realize that the entry level of the office is the top level of the building and we had to go down a narrow and steep 38 steps (with the aforementioned toddler, bike, and luggage) to get to our room. The hallway at the bottom of the steps was so narrow I had a hard time navigating the bike around the corner.
My dad was not pleased to find only a double bed in the room.
We sort of settled in and I decided to bike up the hill to my sister's hotel, which was where the check-in for the triathlon was.
Holy hills, Batman, if this ride is any indication of what the event will be like tomorrow, I'm in deep doo doo. I actually had to WALK the bike at one point. I wish I'd had more time to train on this bike on actual hills. 18mph on the flat is all fine and good, but sheesh, this was ridiculous.
First we had to listen to a debriefing on the route. When I met up with my sister, there was a line winding through a courtyard. I didn't see her until I'd been standing there a couple of minutes--she was a few people ahead of me. I asked the people between us if they would mind letting me hang out with my sister and they graciously let me cut in front of them.
We waited for about a half hour, finally saw people coming out of the briefing room, and then probably another 15-30 minutes later, the line actually moved. We ended up about 5 people back from the door and had to wait another round.
There were a couple of women behind us (that I'd cut in front of) that were talking about a book I'd read. We started talking about the author (Marian Keyes, you are FANTASTIC), and then eventually started talking about our kids and the triathlon and why we were all there. They were so nice and supportive and I felt very welcomed into the triathlon community, again.
The briefing was basically just a covering of the route, which any idiot can look up online or in our packets, BUT the city of Avalon requires it because apparently last year, since the route goes by the fire department, there was a little problem in that NO ONE WOULD STOP TO LET THE FIRE TRUCKS THROUGH. We were informed that in case of an emergency, the race would literally be STOPPED to let the emergency vehicles through.
In other words, we could have had MAYBE a half hour total wait for our packet pickup (probably less), but instead because of some jerks last year, we had to waste nearly two hours for our total packet pickup. Lovely.
Once the talk was done, we had to get in line to get our bib numbers. Then we got to leave the briefing room and go to a different room to go get our packets, event T-shirts, and peruse goodies for sale. There was some actual gear--little stuff like goggles and other small items, and then there were some snacks. I decided to try these gummy fruit snack things made by Power Bar. (They turned out not to be so great, and I decided I'd give them to Ijja and stick to the Sharkies I'd brought.)
After the briefing, I headed back to my hotel. Dad and my daughter and I set out to find dinner--and I wanted sushi. We wandered around several places and finally found one, but it was so overpriced, that I couldn't justify spending as much as it would cost on dinner for a toddler, let alone the adults. After wandering around a bit more, we ended up back there anyway.
Dad, THANK YOU for treating us to dinner.
Then he hiked up the hill (and got lost in the dark on the way) heading to my sister's hotel room since they had an extra bed.
I organized as much as I could before bed, and then crashed.
Tomorrow will be a big day.
Before leaving, we had to stop at a state park to try and take pictures for my sister to help in her defense against a $475 ticket for walking her dog. Long story.
In the process, I got lost, couldn't reach my sister by phone, and then when I did, thought I was going to get a ticket myself for blowing through a stop sign. Fortunately there was no one there to catch me.
It ended up taking about an hour of our trip time back and then I opted to NOT take the $4.75 toll road again. We arrived at my sister's house just before noon.
It was a madhouse, everyone running around--and my sister wasn't even home as she was dropping her dog off at the kennel.
We loaded up two cars with 3 bikes, 3 kids, 4 adults, triathlon gear for 2, baby supplies, and then just the regular stuff that is required on a trip with that many people (clothing, snacks, etc.)
We got to the ferry terminal and I don't know how many times I heard my dad sigh though his teeth and say, "Boy, this has got to be the most disorganized mess I've ever seen at a ferry!" Actually, it was quite a bit of chaos and long lines and irritable people.
The ride there was nice and we were even surrounded by jumping dolphins for a little while, which seemed to excite everyone on board.
Finally on Catalina Island, we unloaded and then went our separate ways. From the map we were given on board, it appeared that my sister's hotel was up at the top of the hill and ours, while not at the top of the hill, was on the other side of the bay, and only halfway up the hill.
I ended up putting my daughter on the bike seat and she held on to my arm for dear life. I was also hauling two bags over my shoulder while my dad hauled a suitcase and bag.
I was so exhausted when we got to our hotel that I had NO IDEA how I was going to make it through three events tomorrow--until I realized I would have no toddler or luggage to bring with me. Still, it was actually kinda tough.
Our hotel room was on the very bottom level, which would seem like it would be convenient, until you realize that the entry level of the office is the top level of the building and we had to go down a narrow and steep 38 steps (with the aforementioned toddler, bike, and luggage) to get to our room. The hallway at the bottom of the steps was so narrow I had a hard time navigating the bike around the corner.
My dad was not pleased to find only a double bed in the room.
We sort of settled in and I decided to bike up the hill to my sister's hotel, which was where the check-in for the triathlon was.
Holy hills, Batman, if this ride is any indication of what the event will be like tomorrow, I'm in deep doo doo. I actually had to WALK the bike at one point. I wish I'd had more time to train on this bike on actual hills. 18mph on the flat is all fine and good, but sheesh, this was ridiculous.
First we had to listen to a debriefing on the route. When I met up with my sister, there was a line winding through a courtyard. I didn't see her until I'd been standing there a couple of minutes--she was a few people ahead of me. I asked the people between us if they would mind letting me hang out with my sister and they graciously let me cut in front of them.
We waited for about a half hour, finally saw people coming out of the briefing room, and then probably another 15-30 minutes later, the line actually moved. We ended up about 5 people back from the door and had to wait another round.
There were a couple of women behind us (that I'd cut in front of) that were talking about a book I'd read. We started talking about the author (Marian Keyes, you are FANTASTIC), and then eventually started talking about our kids and the triathlon and why we were all there. They were so nice and supportive and I felt very welcomed into the triathlon community, again.
The briefing was basically just a covering of the route, which any idiot can look up online or in our packets, BUT the city of Avalon requires it because apparently last year, since the route goes by the fire department, there was a little problem in that NO ONE WOULD STOP TO LET THE FIRE TRUCKS THROUGH. We were informed that in case of an emergency, the race would literally be STOPPED to let the emergency vehicles through.
In other words, we could have had MAYBE a half hour total wait for our packet pickup (probably less), but instead because of some jerks last year, we had to waste nearly two hours for our total packet pickup. Lovely.
Once the talk was done, we had to get in line to get our bib numbers. Then we got to leave the briefing room and go to a different room to go get our packets, event T-shirts, and peruse goodies for sale. There was some actual gear--little stuff like goggles and other small items, and then there were some snacks. I decided to try these gummy fruit snack things made by Power Bar. (They turned out not to be so great, and I decided I'd give them to Ijja and stick to the Sharkies I'd brought.)
After the briefing, I headed back to my hotel. Dad and my daughter and I set out to find dinner--and I wanted sushi. We wandered around several places and finally found one, but it was so overpriced, that I couldn't justify spending as much as it would cost on dinner for a toddler, let alone the adults. After wandering around a bit more, we ended up back there anyway.
Dad, THANK YOU for treating us to dinner.
Then he hiked up the hill (and got lost in the dark on the way) heading to my sister's hotel room since they had an extra bed.
I organized as much as I could before bed, and then crashed.
Tomorrow will be a big day.
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
I Am a Weenie, Fine.
My sister tried to get me to go swimming again today. The plan was we would swim straight out to a buoy (a fairly short distance), repeat several times, then be done.
That was the plan.
While the last two days I managed to get in the water rather slowly, I was at least able to get in, today I was having none of it.
My sister was not impressed. In fact, I think she was quite annoyed with me.
She, however, did great. She is terrified of sharks getting her and has a rather intense fear of just going out that far (even though she is a much stronger swimmer than me). She has NEVER gone out that far (without a surfboard) and made several loops out and back from the buoy.
She tried to convince me, begging me saying she'd even go without her wetsuit.
Here's the thing: I'm not afraid of the depth of the water or sharks or other things. What I know I need to work on in the water is breathing since I can't seem to exhale through my nose in the salt water. Since it was just too cold this morning to adapt to, I didn't think it would make it easier and I felt no need to freeze myself to figure this out.
I will try tomorrow once my wetsuit comes in and my sister is going to take me to the local YMCA so I can work on breathing out through my mouth in the pool. We'll see how that goes.
Tonight I also went to a "Triathlon 101" clinic--a free clinic put on by the Long Beach Triathlon club. There were two guys there--one of them who I would not describe as athletic (nor would I imagine he could do any portion of a triathlon, let alone all three events), but who basically started and has been doing triathlons for 18 months now for the same reason(s) as me: he needed to make a lifestyle change, lose weight, and needed some kind of goal to work towards to keep him motivated and focused.
He's lost 100 pounds in 18 months by working for and doing multiple triathlons similar to this.
They had some great information that was really helpful, a ton of hints, and a lot of encouragement. There was only one other person who attended the clinic--he's at a very different place than me (he actually hopes to be competitive) and had done one triathlon. He's hoping to do one called Lava Man in Hawaii.
It was really nice to see and hear that the triathlon community is very welcoming and open to newcomers. If it wasn't so expensive, I could easily get into doing this on a regular basis. But considering the entry fees are usually over $100 and that's not even looking into equipment that I don't currently own (I'm either borrowing, renting, or doing without for this one), I'm not sure it will be a long-term sport for me. Hopefully an event or two a year.
That's assuming I even make it through the swim this time around.
That was the plan.
While the last two days I managed to get in the water rather slowly, I was at least able to get in, today I was having none of it.
My sister was not impressed. In fact, I think she was quite annoyed with me.
She, however, did great. She is terrified of sharks getting her and has a rather intense fear of just going out that far (even though she is a much stronger swimmer than me). She has NEVER gone out that far (without a surfboard) and made several loops out and back from the buoy.
She tried to convince me, begging me saying she'd even go without her wetsuit.
Here's the thing: I'm not afraid of the depth of the water or sharks or other things. What I know I need to work on in the water is breathing since I can't seem to exhale through my nose in the salt water. Since it was just too cold this morning to adapt to, I didn't think it would make it easier and I felt no need to freeze myself to figure this out.
I will try tomorrow once my wetsuit comes in and my sister is going to take me to the local YMCA so I can work on breathing out through my mouth in the pool. We'll see how that goes.
Tonight I also went to a "Triathlon 101" clinic--a free clinic put on by the Long Beach Triathlon club. There were two guys there--one of them who I would not describe as athletic (nor would I imagine he could do any portion of a triathlon, let alone all three events), but who basically started and has been doing triathlons for 18 months now for the same reason(s) as me: he needed to make a lifestyle change, lose weight, and needed some kind of goal to work towards to keep him motivated and focused.
He's lost 100 pounds in 18 months by working for and doing multiple triathlons similar to this.
They had some great information that was really helpful, a ton of hints, and a lot of encouragement. There was only one other person who attended the clinic--he's at a very different place than me (he actually hopes to be competitive) and had done one triathlon. He's hoping to do one called Lava Man in Hawaii.
It was really nice to see and hear that the triathlon community is very welcoming and open to newcomers. If it wasn't so expensive, I could easily get into doing this on a regular basis. But considering the entry fees are usually over $100 and that's not even looking into equipment that I don't currently own (I'm either borrowing, renting, or doing without for this one), I'm not sure it will be a long-term sport for me. Hopefully an event or two a year.
That's assuming I even make it through the swim this time around.
Monday, November 1, 2010
Better Than Yesterday, But That's Not Saying Much
Today's workout plan was to go swimming with my brother-in-law the same place we went yesterday. Then my sister really wanted me to practice the transition to the bike.
She's still not getting that for me, I'm not racing, so the few seconds I'm going to lose from not practicing a transition really aren't critical.
The swim went both better and worse than yesterday. I managed to actually swim a quarter of a mile, but I did have to stop a couple of times and cough/gag water out. Also, I only swam with my face in the water a few strokes since I still can't seem to figure out the breathing thing.
I learned that swimming with your face out of the water is not only far less efficient (and slower), but it is SO much more tiring. I've got to figure this out--I'm now more worried about that part than anything. I know I can finish, but I'm afraid it will take me so long that I will be disqualified at the end of the first event because I'll be so slow I'll miss the cutoff time.
After a quarter mile (which I swam going away from the car, down the beach), I walked back in about waist-deep water so at least I was still getting some kind of exercise.
My brother-in-law swam a half mile in less time than it took me to do my little antics in the water. Yes, he's in fantastic shape, but *sigh* so depressing that someone swims faster than I walk.
Anyhow, after the swim, we were going to drive up a ways and bike in a different place that has a few little hills (rather than just the flat area from yesterday).
We passed the place where the ferry leaves from and then decided that my brother-in-law and my sister would bike while I watched my niece. They were only gone for about 40 minutes, and I adore my niece, but it was excellent reinforcement that I only want one child because I just don't want to go through the baby phase again.
We came back and loaded my bike onto the trainer in the living room. Pizza was ordered for dinner and then we sat down to watch How To Train Your Dragon. Great movie, but it was too hard to hear over the bike on the trainer AND I was overheating rather rapidly. Plus trying to exercise on a full stomach was probably not too wise.
Not a great day of training.
Hopefully tomorrow will go better.
She's still not getting that for me, I'm not racing, so the few seconds I'm going to lose from not practicing a transition really aren't critical.
The swim went both better and worse than yesterday. I managed to actually swim a quarter of a mile, but I did have to stop a couple of times and cough/gag water out. Also, I only swam with my face in the water a few strokes since I still can't seem to figure out the breathing thing.
I learned that swimming with your face out of the water is not only far less efficient (and slower), but it is SO much more tiring. I've got to figure this out--I'm now more worried about that part than anything. I know I can finish, but I'm afraid it will take me so long that I will be disqualified at the end of the first event because I'll be so slow I'll miss the cutoff time.
After a quarter mile (which I swam going away from the car, down the beach), I walked back in about waist-deep water so at least I was still getting some kind of exercise.
My brother-in-law swam a half mile in less time than it took me to do my little antics in the water. Yes, he's in fantastic shape, but *sigh* so depressing that someone swims faster than I walk.
Anyhow, after the swim, we were going to drive up a ways and bike in a different place that has a few little hills (rather than just the flat area from yesterday).
We passed the place where the ferry leaves from and then decided that my brother-in-law and my sister would bike while I watched my niece. They were only gone for about 40 minutes, and I adore my niece, but it was excellent reinforcement that I only want one child because I just don't want to go through the baby phase again.
We came back and loaded my bike onto the trainer in the living room. Pizza was ordered for dinner and then we sat down to watch How To Train Your Dragon. Great movie, but it was too hard to hear over the bike on the trainer AND I was overheating rather rapidly. Plus trying to exercise on a full stomach was probably not too wise.
Not a great day of training.
Hopefully tomorrow will go better.
Sunday, October 3, 2010
Relaxing for Everyone Else
I had a conference this past weekend for massage continuing education. It was at a retreat area where I was hoping I would get a chance to slow down and relax. Since I was coordinating the weekend, I was not expecting to attend classes, but I was hoping that during classes I would be able to get in some hiking, soaking in the hot tubs, and unwinding.
If you've followed any of this blog, you know by now that nothing in my life tends to go as planned.
The event had a much lower attendance turnout than expected. So when I got a call at 9:15 p.m. right before leaving to drive down (I had actually intended to leave earlier but my carpool friend was running late), I went ahead and booked him into the conference, even though literally every bed at the facility was booked.
The organization could not turn away an attendee though, so I figured I would give up my lodging and sleep in the car if needed. I did throw in a tent and sleeping bag, just in case.
I got a campsite and set up, but when I unpacked my sleeping bag, discovered that my air mattress I keep with it had disappeared (possibly borrowed by husband, but not actually sure I can blame it on him). Thankfully, I force him to keep a large blanket in the car for the dog, so I ended up sleeping on top of the dog blanket.
In a tent with no stakes to hold it down (that I can blame on my husband).
In a weird way, it wasn't that bad. Because I was not in the regular lodging area of the facility, I did get some nice alone time. I actually wasn't that cold or uncomfortable, but I did have to use a porta potty, and one morning I crawled out of the tent wrong, tweaked my back, and gimped around until about 2:00.
Also, the hot tubs I'd so been looking forward to started a migraine, so I didn't spend any time at all in them after that.
But the weekend went well overall and coming home, I was finally able to talk to my husband. This was the longest we'd ever been apart since we got married, and it was the longest I've ever been away from my daughter.
It was so nice to come home to both of them.
If you've followed any of this blog, you know by now that nothing in my life tends to go as planned.
The event had a much lower attendance turnout than expected. So when I got a call at 9:15 p.m. right before leaving to drive down (I had actually intended to leave earlier but my carpool friend was running late), I went ahead and booked him into the conference, even though literally every bed at the facility was booked.
The organization could not turn away an attendee though, so I figured I would give up my lodging and sleep in the car if needed. I did throw in a tent and sleeping bag, just in case.
I got a campsite and set up, but when I unpacked my sleeping bag, discovered that my air mattress I keep with it had disappeared (possibly borrowed by husband, but not actually sure I can blame it on him). Thankfully, I force him to keep a large blanket in the car for the dog, so I ended up sleeping on top of the dog blanket.
In a tent with no stakes to hold it down (that I can blame on my husband).
In a weird way, it wasn't that bad. Because I was not in the regular lodging area of the facility, I did get some nice alone time. I actually wasn't that cold or uncomfortable, but I did have to use a porta potty, and one morning I crawled out of the tent wrong, tweaked my back, and gimped around until about 2:00.
Also, the hot tubs I'd so been looking forward to started a migraine, so I didn't spend any time at all in them after that.
But the weekend went well overall and coming home, I was finally able to talk to my husband. This was the longest we'd ever been apart since we got married, and it was the longest I've ever been away from my daughter.
It was so nice to come home to both of them.
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
And the Doctor Says...
After a LONG conversation with someone at Kaiser, I was given a new doctor and got an appointment. Today I got to meet him and was actually pleased. I'm not thrilled with him, but so far so good (and no bad stuff yet). He was very understanding and supportive of where I am and what I've been through.
Ironicially, the Physician's Assistant who made me so irritated also works for this doctor. She seemed puzzled that I was a "new patient" but that I looked familiar. Oh well.
Anyhow, after talking to him, he thinks that I have heat-induced migraines, which is not what I expected to hear, but actually makes sense to me. He prescribed medication for it that I'm to take at the onset of the migraine. One of them I can't take within 12 hours of taking my pain medication (which means I will probably never use it), but the other one is for the nausea (so maybe I can prevent myself from doing a technicolor display for the neighbors while on my front lawn).
I guess I'll have to wait and see how it works once I have need of it.
I also went walking with my friend. She's been so supportive and helpful through all of this and is rapidly filling a "hole" I've had in my life for several years of a close female friend that is there for me to lean on when I need it. I hadn't even realized how much I needed that.
Anyhow, while out hiking I got a rock in my shoe. Jokingly, I said, "Oh, I'd better take that out...being prediabetic and all, get a rock in my shoe, then I'll have to get my leg amputated." My friend seemed confused until I explained how having high blood sugar over time essentially disables the nervous system and immune system, so extremities lose sensation (not sensing things like rocks in shoes), wounds develop, and because of the weakened ability to heal, infection can set in and then get severe enough that limbs need to be amputated.
Stunned, she looked at me and said, "I thought you were joking, but you weren't kidding!"
I'm still struggling with the blood sugar, but both my naturopath and my new doctor have told me that by losing weight and staying active, I am actually doing the best things I can be doing for myself.
Oh, and I nearly forgot. My blood pressure, for the last couple of years, has consistently been around 125/85ish. Not terrible, but getting pretty close to worrisome (like 5 points higher and it would be worrisome). Oddly, every time I went to Kaiser, I was told, "Oh, your blood pressure is good." Every time I've thought, That's weird. Are they just surprised that for as big as I am, it's not higher, or do they actually consider that decent?
Today it was 85/60. That's actually quite low, but again, about 5 points away from concerning. Nonetheless, the nurse kind of freaked out. I was pleased though, because it was yet another sign that I'm on the right track, even if things are going slowly.
Best of all, the Kaiser scales show that I've now lost 30 pounds.
Still have a ways to go though.
Ironicially, the Physician's Assistant who made me so irritated also works for this doctor. She seemed puzzled that I was a "new patient" but that I looked familiar. Oh well.
Anyhow, after talking to him, he thinks that I have heat-induced migraines, which is not what I expected to hear, but actually makes sense to me. He prescribed medication for it that I'm to take at the onset of the migraine. One of them I can't take within 12 hours of taking my pain medication (which means I will probably never use it), but the other one is for the nausea (so maybe I can prevent myself from doing a technicolor display for the neighbors while on my front lawn).
I guess I'll have to wait and see how it works once I have need of it.
I also went walking with my friend. She's been so supportive and helpful through all of this and is rapidly filling a "hole" I've had in my life for several years of a close female friend that is there for me to lean on when I need it. I hadn't even realized how much I needed that.
Anyhow, while out hiking I got a rock in my shoe. Jokingly, I said, "Oh, I'd better take that out...being prediabetic and all, get a rock in my shoe, then I'll have to get my leg amputated." My friend seemed confused until I explained how having high blood sugar over time essentially disables the nervous system and immune system, so extremities lose sensation (not sensing things like rocks in shoes), wounds develop, and because of the weakened ability to heal, infection can set in and then get severe enough that limbs need to be amputated.
Stunned, she looked at me and said, "I thought you were joking, but you weren't kidding!"
I'm still struggling with the blood sugar, but both my naturopath and my new doctor have told me that by losing weight and staying active, I am actually doing the best things I can be doing for myself.
Oh, and I nearly forgot. My blood pressure, for the last couple of years, has consistently been around 125/85ish. Not terrible, but getting pretty close to worrisome (like 5 points higher and it would be worrisome). Oddly, every time I went to Kaiser, I was told, "Oh, your blood pressure is good." Every time I've thought, That's weird. Are they just surprised that for as big as I am, it's not higher, or do they actually consider that decent?
Today it was 85/60. That's actually quite low, but again, about 5 points away from concerning. Nonetheless, the nurse kind of freaked out. I was pleased though, because it was yet another sign that I'm on the right track, even if things are going slowly.
Best of all, the Kaiser scales show that I've now lost 30 pounds.
Still have a ways to go though.
Monday, September 20, 2010
Even Oregon's "Heat" Is Too Much For Me
After a long journey home (36 hours, door-to-door, only four hours sleep on the floor at JFK, which is the WORST airport I've been through, STILL), I was really looking forward to cooler weather and time to myself.
The dog suffered pretty badly while we were gone, unfortunately. She's allergic to fleas, which she'd contracted, so she scratched them to the point of a staph infection and developed a hotspot. I was embarrassed to take her into the vet, but the treated her well and at a pretty reasonable price (I LOVE our vet). She now has a shaved spot on her hind end, but at least is on her way to recovery.
More than I can say for myself. I went to the gym to do some choreography to music I had JUST cut. It wasn't that hot--right around 80 degrees. I was there for only a couple of hours and not even working that hard, but was not feeling well by time I was done. "Not feeling well" meaning I had to lie down in front of a fan and NOT MOVE or I felt like I was going to hurl.
I managed to cool down a bit and then it occurred to me that if I hopped in the car and cranked up the air conditioning, I might cool off much more quickly.
The cooling off worked.
The nausea did not go away.
Just when I was thinking I was going to make it home (I was pulling into the driveway), I was proved wrong.
If any of the neighbors saw me leaning over the bushes in my yard, they are probably wondering what type of issues I must have. I rather doubt that a severe reaction to heat is one of the things that would cross their mind.
I'm now much less worried about managing the physical events of the triathlon. I think I can complete them, but the shape I will be in afterward is a bit more concerning. Looks like driving home might not be an option.
The dog suffered pretty badly while we were gone, unfortunately. She's allergic to fleas, which she'd contracted, so she scratched them to the point of a staph infection and developed a hotspot. I was embarrassed to take her into the vet, but the treated her well and at a pretty reasonable price (I LOVE our vet). She now has a shaved spot on her hind end, but at least is on her way to recovery.
More than I can say for myself. I went to the gym to do some choreography to music I had JUST cut. It wasn't that hot--right around 80 degrees. I was there for only a couple of hours and not even working that hard, but was not feeling well by time I was done. "Not feeling well" meaning I had to lie down in front of a fan and NOT MOVE or I felt like I was going to hurl.
I managed to cool down a bit and then it occurred to me that if I hopped in the car and cranked up the air conditioning, I might cool off much more quickly.
The cooling off worked.
The nausea did not go away.
Just when I was thinking I was going to make it home (I was pulling into the driveway), I was proved wrong.
If any of the neighbors saw me leaning over the bushes in my yard, they are probably wondering what type of issues I must have. I rather doubt that a severe reaction to heat is one of the things that would cross their mind.
I'm now much less worried about managing the physical events of the triathlon. I think I can complete them, but the shape I will be in afterward is a bit more concerning. Looks like driving home might not be an option.
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Time Flies When You're Not Paying Attention To It
The past few days have seen very little formal exercise activity, although at least my pants are still getting looser.
I had another heat episode, and this time it wasn't even triggered by exercise. Despite drinking plenty of water (I drank even though I kind of had to force it down), I ended up with another good bout of heat exhaustion, narrowly missing a repeat performance of a public biohazard deposit.
It took 12 hours of sleep to drain the light-and-sound hurts headache and get over the must-be-within-10-degrees-of-horizontal-or-I'm-going-to-hurl stomachache.
And then we went out in the sun for another long day of walking around being tourists. I seriously debated staying behind, but I'm glad I didn't since I was only partly yucky feeling at the end of the day.
Then my dad left and we ended up with a day that felt like we still had jetlag--unable to get up before noon and dragging around the rest of the day.
Today we did more walking around, I got my last bit of shopping in, and now I'm wrapping things up to get ready to go home, where I will have two husband and child-free weeks and then things will go back to "normal."
I had another heat episode, and this time it wasn't even triggered by exercise. Despite drinking plenty of water (I drank even though I kind of had to force it down), I ended up with another good bout of heat exhaustion, narrowly missing a repeat performance of a public biohazard deposit.
It took 12 hours of sleep to drain the light-and-sound hurts headache and get over the must-be-within-10-degrees-of-horizontal-or-I'm-going-to-hurl stomachache.
And then we went out in the sun for another long day of walking around being tourists. I seriously debated staying behind, but I'm glad I didn't since I was only partly yucky feeling at the end of the day.
Then my dad left and we ended up with a day that felt like we still had jetlag--unable to get up before noon and dragging around the rest of the day.
Today we did more walking around, I got my last bit of shopping in, and now I'm wrapping things up to get ready to go home, where I will have two husband and child-free weeks and then things will go back to "normal."
Saturday, September 11, 2010
Back to Retail Therapy--Shopping Is Exercise, Right?
Another later morning between jetlag and a very late Moroccan time schedule (staying up until 1:00 or 2:00 and then sleeping in past 10:00). After a not-terrible (diet-wise) breakfast at a cafe at 1:00 in the afternoon, we decided to try to get to the medina.
After a crazy journey there (five people in the back seat of a very small compact car, with someone we'd just met over breakfast and two people we didn't know at all), we got to the medina.
I got a bunch of shopping done for presents for friends and was pleased that I was even somewhat able to communicate this year.
"Communicate" being used loosely as at one point I wasn't sure if the guy was saying that he was impressed that an American was speaking French or laughing at how terrible the American spoke French. Considering my French skills, it was probably the latter. On the other hand, considering he was trying to impress a customer (as they usually do), there is a slight chance it was the former.
Or maybe I'm just trying to flatter myself and WANT to believe my dad when he tells me how impressed he is with my French.
Hmm. It's actually something I feel good about myself with right now, so I'll take it as a positive.
Not that I can quit studying.
Unfortunately, not much exercise got done, unless you count standing/walking around a medina for about four hours. While carrying pounds of three-year-old daughter and/or pounds of purchases.
It still felt like Ramadan as we didn't eat in the medina though and even had to wait awhile after getting back to my father-in-law's house.
I'm having a hard time relaxing on my "vacation" between issues with the dog, things coming up over email with my volunteer work back home, and not being able to control my diet or exercise plan very well.
Or maybe I'm just whining because of my control issues and I can't control anything here.
Nah.
After a crazy journey there (five people in the back seat of a very small compact car, with someone we'd just met over breakfast and two people we didn't know at all), we got to the medina.
I got a bunch of shopping done for presents for friends and was pleased that I was even somewhat able to communicate this year.
"Communicate" being used loosely as at one point I wasn't sure if the guy was saying that he was impressed that an American was speaking French or laughing at how terrible the American spoke French. Considering my French skills, it was probably the latter. On the other hand, considering he was trying to impress a customer (as they usually do), there is a slight chance it was the former.
Or maybe I'm just trying to flatter myself and WANT to believe my dad when he tells me how impressed he is with my French.
Hmm. It's actually something I feel good about myself with right now, so I'll take it as a positive.
Not that I can quit studying.
Unfortunately, not much exercise got done, unless you count standing/walking around a medina for about four hours. While carrying pounds of three-year-old daughter and/or pounds of purchases.
It still felt like Ramadan as we didn't eat in the medina though and even had to wait awhile after getting back to my father-in-law's house.
I'm having a hard time relaxing on my "vacation" between issues with the dog, things coming up over email with my volunteer work back home, and not being able to control my diet or exercise plan very well.
Or maybe I'm just whining because of my control issues and I can't control anything here.
Nah.
Friday, September 10, 2010
Finally, Ramadan Is Over
I'm not sure if I had mentioned that it is (was) Ramadan, the holy month for Muslims, where they fast during daylight for a full month.
Which means that most restaurants are closed during the day and it's not very polite to eat or drink in public since 99% of the population is fasting. Well, except for young kids, elderly, sick/pregnant, and tourists.
This made today a big day for celebration and feasting since it is an official holiday.
There was a TON of food today. Except not so much of it was healthy. Cake for breakfast, sweet pastries for lunch. A nice meat dish, to be eaten with bread.
Not a veggie or fruit in sight.
I got glares as I raided the fridge for vegetables and did not partake of what was served, but I felt like I didn't have a choice.
Dad and I took a post-lunch walk down the promenade again. It seemed much shorter in the daytime and at a not-meandering pace. It was also ridiculously hotter and I went straight into the bathroom and turned the freezing-cold water on straight over my head.
In the evening, we again visited my mother-in-law, where sugared tea was served.
A hypoglycemic's dream.
A hyperglycemic's nightmare.
We got back very late and went to bed.
Hopefully tomorrow will be something more like moderation.
Which means that most restaurants are closed during the day and it's not very polite to eat or drink in public since 99% of the population is fasting. Well, except for young kids, elderly, sick/pregnant, and tourists.
This made today a big day for celebration and feasting since it is an official holiday.
There was a TON of food today. Except not so much of it was healthy. Cake for breakfast, sweet pastries for lunch. A nice meat dish, to be eaten with bread.
Not a veggie or fruit in sight.
I got glares as I raided the fridge for vegetables and did not partake of what was served, but I felt like I didn't have a choice.
Dad and I took a post-lunch walk down the promenade again. It seemed much shorter in the daytime and at a not-meandering pace. It was also ridiculously hotter and I went straight into the bathroom and turned the freezing-cold water on straight over my head.
In the evening, we again visited my mother-in-law, where sugared tea was served.
A hypoglycemic's dream.
A hyperglycemic's nightmare.
We got back very late and went to bed.
Hopefully tomorrow will be something more like moderation.
Thursday, September 9, 2010
M...o...r...o...c...c...a...n Time
Our plans for today were to go to Rabat, visit the Medina, and be back early enough that I could for a walk. But being on Moroccan time, we left so late that things didn't quite go as planned. We were dropped off by a friend of the family in the middle of the city, and right as I got out of the car, I severely twisted my left ankle and did something else to my right foot, perhaps banged it on whatever my left foot twisted on; I'm not sure.
So I hopped around for a few moments and then recovered enough to limp around. We visited some tourist sites, then went to my husband's mom's house, where I iced both feet for awhile before we headed back to Temara.
I did get in a quick walk with my dad, against the advice of my in-laws, as it was near dark and they consider the "forest" a very unsafe place in the evening. I was relieved I at least got in SOME exercise, even though we were late for dinner.
My dad was very worried that we'd made some sort of faux pas, but with the blood sugar numbers I've been posting, I didn't really care as I need to regulate this somehow.
Then this evening I got bad news. Well, the news wasn't bad, but it could have been.
Essentially, I got a voice mail that someone had found my dog.
Which meant she was lost.
Which meant that the person we had looking after her...we didn't know what happened.
After about an hour of frantic phone calls (at $2.95/minute roaming charges), I arranged for one friend to pick her up, the original dogsitter to collect her, and several others who could fill in as "back-up" if the original housesitter couldn't, our doggie was back.
And so are levels of stress that had just started to melt away.
So I hopped around for a few moments and then recovered enough to limp around. We visited some tourist sites, then went to my husband's mom's house, where I iced both feet for awhile before we headed back to Temara.
I did get in a quick walk with my dad, against the advice of my in-laws, as it was near dark and they consider the "forest" a very unsafe place in the evening. I was relieved I at least got in SOME exercise, even though we were late for dinner.
My dad was very worried that we'd made some sort of faux pas, but with the blood sugar numbers I've been posting, I didn't really care as I need to regulate this somehow.
Then this evening I got bad news. Well, the news wasn't bad, but it could have been.
Essentially, I got a voice mail that someone had found my dog.
Which meant she was lost.
Which meant that the person we had looking after her...we didn't know what happened.
After about an hour of frantic phone calls (at $2.95/minute roaming charges), I arranged for one friend to pick her up, the original dogsitter to collect her, and several others who could fill in as "back-up" if the original housesitter couldn't, our doggie was back.
And so are levels of stress that had just started to melt away.
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
Getting to Work Out Is More Challenging than the Workout Itself
So being on Moroccan time is really making sticking to my workouts challenging. After my dad arrived and we all took jetlag catnaps, we ended up going down to the beach. It's too bad the water is SO polluted or it would be a perfect place for me to practice swimming in open water.
We sat on the beach instead, but by time we got back it was dark and time for dinner. Disappointed that I wasn't even going to get in a walk, I was trying to figure out what sort of strength-type training I could do, using my body as resistance (pushups, crunches, etc.) when I found out we were going for a walk on the "promenade."
Unfortunately, this was a walk where instead of being for exercise was more for socializing and enjoying each other's company. I explained to my dad that when we take a walk with family, it's usually more of a meander.
So my workout today was just a meander down the promenade. Not exactly what I had in mind when I brought my running shoes here.
We sat on the beach instead, but by time we got back it was dark and time for dinner. Disappointed that I wasn't even going to get in a walk, I was trying to figure out what sort of strength-type training I could do, using my body as resistance (pushups, crunches, etc.) when I found out we were going for a walk on the "promenade."
Unfortunately, this was a walk where instead of being for exercise was more for socializing and enjoying each other's company. I explained to my dad that when we take a walk with family, it's usually more of a meander.
So my workout today was just a meander down the promenade. Not exactly what I had in mind when I brought my running shoes here.
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
Frustrated and Confused
So after checking my blood sugar for the past two days, I have ended up more stressed out and confused than anything. I did some research online and ended up with more questions than answers, although I did find out some of the more serious effects of diabetes that I hadn't already known.
I don't know if my testing strips (which expired two years ago) are terribly accurate, but I was hoping they would at least give me an accurate "range." If they are, then I'm worried, because with what I've been eating and doing in terms of walking and activity, then I'm really concerned about diabetes not being a "possible" issue, but being something that's already been occurring. In which case it's a good thing I've already started on this path.
Since I can't very well control what is served to me at meals, I'm trying to choose my portions and which dishes I eat as best I can. I'm also trying not to worry too much as even my naturopath said not to stress out while on vacation and to enjoy myself. Since I'm still working on the whole moderation thing, I'm trying to keep that in mind, knowing that I will probably have to be much more strict when I get home.
I did get in another dusty walk today, only got a little bit lost, but obviously, since I'm back online and updating this, I found my way back.
Now if I could just get to sleep in this heat, I would start feeling better.
I don't know if my testing strips (which expired two years ago) are terribly accurate, but I was hoping they would at least give me an accurate "range." If they are, then I'm worried, because with what I've been eating and doing in terms of walking and activity, then I'm really concerned about diabetes not being a "possible" issue, but being something that's already been occurring. In which case it's a good thing I've already started on this path.
Since I can't very well control what is served to me at meals, I'm trying to choose my portions and which dishes I eat as best I can. I'm also trying not to worry too much as even my naturopath said not to stress out while on vacation and to enjoy myself. Since I'm still working on the whole moderation thing, I'm trying to keep that in mind, knowing that I will probably have to be much more strict when I get home.
I did get in another dusty walk today, only got a little bit lost, but obviously, since I'm back online and updating this, I found my way back.
Now if I could just get to sleep in this heat, I would start feeling better.
Monday, September 6, 2010
Right Into the Groove
We woke up a little late this morning--it was a bit hard for me to get to sleep in all the heat, but not too late considering how tired I was yesterday and the jetlag.
Shortly after getting going in the morning, we made plans to go out with family for shopping. As is usual when we do this, it took ages to actually get going, but instead it was my fault for a change because I hadn't organized anything since arriving and had to do my daughter's hair, among other things.
We walked around for several hours in the shopping area. Not "exercise" so much, but it was tiring in the heat and carrying bags as we did end up doing some shopping.
When we got back, I immediately put on an old pair of shoes (pre-triathlon training shoes that hurt my feet sometimes) and went over to the park (which they call the "forest") and took a 50 minute walk, arriving back just in time for dinner.
I spent much of the walk still fuming about my Kaiser doctor and the way the PA handled the phone conversation. Also, I really missed my HEK friends and the park we usually walk in. I also wished I'd been able to find my walking meters before leaving. I haven't used them much lately, but I was hoping to be able to use them as a comparison.
I got back filthy as the trails are all dirt. Dirt that is a reddish color and the consistency of baking flour. I stepped into the shower and ran the nozzle over my legs and feet and scrubbed until it no longer ran brown down the drain.
Thank goodness I brought my old shoes and don't plan on taking them back home.
Shortly after getting going in the morning, we made plans to go out with family for shopping. As is usual when we do this, it took ages to actually get going, but instead it was my fault for a change because I hadn't organized anything since arriving and had to do my daughter's hair, among other things.
We walked around for several hours in the shopping area. Not "exercise" so much, but it was tiring in the heat and carrying bags as we did end up doing some shopping.
When we got back, I immediately put on an old pair of shoes (pre-triathlon training shoes that hurt my feet sometimes) and went over to the park (which they call the "forest") and took a 50 minute walk, arriving back just in time for dinner.
I spent much of the walk still fuming about my Kaiser doctor and the way the PA handled the phone conversation. Also, I really missed my HEK friends and the park we usually walk in. I also wished I'd been able to find my walking meters before leaving. I haven't used them much lately, but I was hoping to be able to use them as a comparison.
I got back filthy as the trails are all dirt. Dirt that is a reddish color and the consistency of baking flour. I stepped into the shower and ran the nozzle over my legs and feet and scrubbed until it no longer ran brown down the drain.
Thank goodness I brought my old shoes and don't plan on taking them back home.
Sunday, September 5, 2010
Back on Solid Ground
After about 36 hours of traveling, we're finally settled in at my father-in-law's home. I spent much of it miserable for one reason or another, mostly a lack of sleep.
Weirdly, once I got here, I couldn't sleep because of the heat and so got up to go socialize with my in-laws in my pathetic French. It's really fun though because I can tell that my Nintendo DS program has really helped my language skills and I'm actually confident that I can say things and it doesn't take as long for me to articulate them. Of course, I'm still horribly mangling the language, but I feel like I can communicate now.
That or they're just humoring me and smiling and nodding because it's our first day.
I had the brilliant idea of wearing flip flops while traveling. Easy off, easy on for security, comfort on the plane, etc. Great idea except that I never wear them otherwise so I blistered. I was worried they would hurt me on my walk that I planned for the evening just after dinner.
As a sample of how fatigued and unable to think I was at that point (I'd ended up being awake for nearly 60 hours, with only brief catnaps on the plane), let's look at some of the problems with my logic for planning a walk after dinner.
1) It is Ramadan, the Holy month for Muslims, where they fast from sunup to sundown, daily.
2) Iftar, which is the feast that breaks the fast, begins promptly at sunset.
3) Iftar, thus, is dinnertime.
4) Thus, dinnertime begins at sunset, so by time you are done eating, it is dark.
5) There is little or no lighting on the streets around here.
Which means that I could not go on a walk after dinner as I would be stumbling around in the dark either in an unlit forest I am unfamiliar with (where I'd planned to walk) or stumbling around in the near-dark on streets with potholes and drivers who aren't expecting to see someone walking down the street.
Hopefully some sleep will improve my critical thinking and planning skills and I will be more mentally functional tomorrow.
Weirdly, once I got here, I couldn't sleep because of the heat and so got up to go socialize with my in-laws in my pathetic French. It's really fun though because I can tell that my Nintendo DS program has really helped my language skills and I'm actually confident that I can say things and it doesn't take as long for me to articulate them. Of course, I'm still horribly mangling the language, but I feel like I can communicate now.
That or they're just humoring me and smiling and nodding because it's our first day.
I had the brilliant idea of wearing flip flops while traveling. Easy off, easy on for security, comfort on the plane, etc. Great idea except that I never wear them otherwise so I blistered. I was worried they would hurt me on my walk that I planned for the evening just after dinner.
As a sample of how fatigued and unable to think I was at that point (I'd ended up being awake for nearly 60 hours, with only brief catnaps on the plane), let's look at some of the problems with my logic for planning a walk after dinner.
1) It is Ramadan, the Holy month for Muslims, where they fast from sunup to sundown, daily.
2) Iftar, which is the feast that breaks the fast, begins promptly at sunset.
3) Iftar, thus, is dinnertime.
4) Thus, dinnertime begins at sunset, so by time you are done eating, it is dark.
5) There is little or no lighting on the streets around here.
Which means that I could not go on a walk after dinner as I would be stumbling around in the dark either in an unlit forest I am unfamiliar with (where I'd planned to walk) or stumbling around in the near-dark on streets with potholes and drivers who aren't expecting to see someone walking down the street.
Hopefully some sleep will improve my critical thinking and planning skills and I will be more mentally functional tomorrow.
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