Monday, April 21, 2008
I was at work the other night, and my knees started to hurt. I thought maybe I was just standing funny. I corrected my position, but nope... still hurt. I waited a few minutes, thinking it would go away, before announcing, "I'm too fat and my knees hurt". Everyone turned and looked at me, and it was awkward as hell. Seriously, when my knees can no longer support my weight, its probably time I start working out. It's not that I don't want to work out, because really, I do. Its just, right after I had Eleanore, I got a gym membership and started going 4 or 5 times a week. I was determined to lose weight. At my first weigh in, I had gained 6 lbs. We all know that muscle weighs more than fat, so I was willing to keep that in mind when I saw the numbers on the scale go up. Then they did a funky body analysis, and it turned out that it was all fat I had gained, none of it was musle. So I thought to myself, alright, this just means I really need to step it up and kick some butt. I changed my diet. More whole grains, lean meats, no sugar. I worked out harder than ever. To the point where I was dripping sweat, and there was just no possible way I could gain weight, since it was literally puddling underneath me. At my next weigh in, I was stoked. I was sure that I had lost at least 2 pounds. I was proud to be well on my way to my size 12's. I stepped up on the scale, and.... wait. Are you freakin' kidding me? That says I gained 3 more pounds ...and... UGH! No no no! I went along with this pattern for 3 or 4 months, until I couldn't take it anymore. And this entire time while I was gaining weight, I was sicker than ever. My body was in such bad condition. Turned out almost everything that I was eating, my body couldn't tolerate, and was storing as fat? Figures. It just happen to be, that the harder I worked out, the more I gained. Over the next couple of months I got my food intolerance's squared away, figuring what I could and could not have. There were lots of mistakes on the way. As of right now, I can't have wheat/gluten/soy/dairy/eggs/coffee/fructose/meats/beans/sorbitol/certain brands of white rice/seaweed/more than a handful of grapes/rice milks/corn/potato... and the list goes on. So while I had figured out what the problem was with my weight gain and overall feeling of crappiness, I never went back to the gym. I couldn't stand to gain another pound. So anyways, when I got home from work the other night, I told Christopher that I really needed to start working out again. We recently had our elliptical fixed, but I don't use it because its out in the garage with the giant scary crickets, spiders, and scorpions. Yesterday while I was at a baby shower, he had called a friend over to help him move it into our bedroom (that way I can lock him and the kid out for some Tia-time), he set up the TV and DVD player, and it was perfect. I don't have any more excuses. I have to work out now. Plus, exercise is supposed to be one of the best forms of pain management for Endometriosis. While Christopher was giving the monster a bath, I put on some comfy pants and a tank top, and hopped on the runner. He had forgot to set up the cable, so I got back on solid ground, and stood there pushing every button on the remote trying to get the tv to work. Nothing. I yelled "How do you set up the cable?!", through the door to my left. I could hear him talking to Eleanore, so I knew he could hear me. ...yet, no response. I asked again. And again. And then dammit, again! Its not like hes on the other side of the house, hes like 5 feet away! Finally he goes "What?". By then I'm so annoyed that I had to repeat myself so many times, that I do the same back to him by not responding. Seriously, how can he not hear me. This happens all the time. He never hears me. Because hes never listening for me. Even if I'm standing literally 5 feet away from him, he somehow manages to block me out completely. Does this ever happen to you? Please tell me its not just my husband. Finally I get over my annoyance enough to let him to come in and fix the dang cable, so I can get my workout on. Good, now go away because I'm mad at you and I don't want you to hear the elliptical squeak while I'm on it. Keep in mind, I haven't worked out in about a year. I set a goal for myself. I'm going to walk uphill for 30 minutes. No matter what. Here I go! After 10 minutes I'm hating life, and telling myself that I'm going to be done when the clock gets to 20. But as I step through it, I start thinking about my knees hurting at work, and how I'm constantly bitching about not being able to wear my size 12's anymore. When I get to 20 minutes I keep on going, and before I know it, 30 minutes have passed, and boy do I have the worst heartburn I've ever had in my life. My face is bright red, and I'm all sticky. That's supposed to be a good thing. Lets hope I didn't just gain 10 pounds. I walk out into the kitchen and sit down on a bar stool, feeling like I'm going to throw up, gasping for water. I need white rice, right now. My heartburn is killing me. Christopher had cooked 2 cups of rice earlier, so I know there's some in the fridge. A dose of relief is in my immediate future. I ask him to heat me up a bowl, and he stares at me blankly. Great, what did he do with the rice? Earlier in the evening, he had made a potato/broccoli mash for him and Eleanore to eat. On accident, and this isn't the first time this has happened, he opened the wrong side of the pepper container, and turned his yummy dish into a pepper death wish. Apparently he had added that entire pot of rice to his mash, thinking it would cancel out the pepper taste, which it didn't. So not only do I not have fluffy white rice to ease the pain in my chest (I'm out of Nexium), but we've got a giant pot of green mush in the fridge that him and Eleanore still won't eat. He feels bad (which makes me feel bad) and makes me some fresh white rice. After its cooked, I gobble it up, and everything is better. My heartburn is gone, and I'm not angry anymore. We're sitting on the couch watching the alternate ending to I Am Legend, and I notice I'm starting to bloat up. I'm not feeling so good. What the heck? And then I realize that when the hubbs went to the store earlier that day, he had bought one of the brands of white rice that my body doesn't tolerate. ....*sigh*. I just can't win can I? And just the day before, he had made some tasty cookies, with a wheat contaminated baking soda that has been sitting in the back of our fridge for well over a year. There was a brand new box in the pantry though! Most of us would know better. But because I know its nothing he did on purpose, I calmed down and I'm not mad at him anymore. I just... ugh... Ya know? So tonight, I'm going to workout for another 30 minutes. And not eat anything that will make me sick and gain another thousand pounds. I can do it, I can do it, I can do it.