Holy sore throat, Batman!

Last night, I had a hard time falling asleep. X-man was out by 9 p.m. And I sat in bed forever not able to sleep. I ended up watching "Up Close and Personal" over Youtube... so you know it was bad. I finally fell asleep a little before 1 a.m.

At 2 a.m., the dog got me up to go outside.

At 3 a.m., I woke up to pain in my throat. It is pretty common since I've had a lot of post nasal drip lately. Except the pain was way worse than normal. My mouth felt a lot more dry. When I went to get a drink of water I found that my throat felt so swollen that I couldn't swallow. Interesting.

At 4 a.m., Riley got me up to go out again. (Not sure what his issue was.)

At 5 a.m., X-man came in my room and snuggled up.

At 5:30 a.m., X-man and Riley had a bed sharing issue.

At 6 a.m., my throat was still a mess, so I called into work sick.

At 8:45 a.m., I dropped X-man off at school and went to Convenient Care. I was still having a lot of pain and a hard time swallowing.

At 9:15 a.m., the CC doctor sat in front of me doing his one-man, fill-the-time-until-the-rapid-test-results-come-back show. For the record, he thought it was just irritation from my cold and wanted me to take some ibuprofen rather than Tylenol. The results came and -- Strep throat.

So, I picked up my Z-pack, came home, rescheduled some appointments and am sitting in bed. I'm eyeing books, but I think instead I'm going to watch movies. I'm eyeing Varsity Blues (who doesn't love a good football movie?), Love Actually (it's a feel good movie) or Grosse Pointe Blank (come on a hitman goes to his high school reunion -- priceless).

Or I could just rewatch all of Firefly. It's been a while since I've seen it. Maybe since I was pregnant with X-man...

Of course as I type this, I'm sitting cross-legged in bed with my laptop in front of me. Nyssa is lying in my lap and across my right forearm. Clawdio is lying up my left knee with one arm on my left elbow and his head resting on my left forearm. Riley is just beyond the laptop... So no stretching any appendages for the time being.

Variety is the spice of -- something

I've been cooking meals at least 4 nights a week since August. I started this cooking fascination around 6 weeks before I entered into maintenance with my weight management program. So, I'd make a dinner, plate it and then cook my HMR meals for me and sit down and eat with the family.

Once I was able to start eating real food at the end of September, I continued with the cooking. Usually it's 4 new meals and then 2 nights of leftover and a night where either KTDID or MacTroll are in charge of dinner. It's been pretty awesome. I post the recipes I make (and like) to my Facebook account, so others might be interested in trying them.

But I have to admit, even though I've given a fair to super yummy rating on all the low-calorie meals I've made so far, my search for good low-calorie baking recipe has come to an end. Everything I make I end up throwing away, not just because it's clear that baking is a GIANT trigger for crappy eating (hand to mouth, hand to mouth) but because I feel pretty --meh-- about the things I'm eating. I'd rather eat something good once a month than have something mediocre every night of the week.

KTDID pointed out to me the other night that I've only made one recipe twice in the last 4 months. And she's right. I keep finding new things to try, new tastes to discover. I feel like Remy the rat on Ratatouille. I find it fun, particularly since I never have to do my own dishes, now.)

Now that the weather is turning (blah to the 6 degree morning last Thursday), I've also been seeking out other high intensity workouts. Last Thursday I did my first cycling class at the gym. It was fun. I'm hoping to go back this week. I also tried a Body Blast class today (first half is cardio, second half is weight training with low weights at a lot of reps). They were both very fun and different. But mostly, I was surprised to find that I wasn't afraid to go into either of them and announce myself as a newbie. I also felt pretty good when I finished them.

I'm getting closer and closer and closer to my next impedance test to see where my body fat percentage lies. I'm curious to see what it says.

Cultural Groups Based on Body Size

The second item I've been turning over in my mind is related to how there appears to be a cultural divide between those that are small and those that are large.

Being a woman who used to think about pointing her car at skinny runners on the street who were all perky and perfect at 6 a.m. running while I endured an hour-long commute into the city for work... I'll be honest. I thought I was part of the "out" crowd as an obese person. I just figured it was because I hated the fact that they figured out how to work exercise into their schedule and I didn't. I was angry that they were pointing out something I couldn't find in myself and, on those really shitty weather days, I just thought they were plain crazy or vain.

Funny, now that I'm on the flip side, I still completely understand the drive to run over the perkily fit, even as I start to get used to the idea that most people consider me one of them. It's like seeing a broader picture and knowing that I've played several different roles. I was never lazy while I was obese. I just channeled my energy and time into different things. Now, the food planning and exercise comes first for me. But I am still just me -- the same person I was before.

So I don't know how to respond when suddenly someone I don't really know includes me in a skinny girl conversation. Nor do I know what to do when suddenly I realize I've been ousted from the phat girl conversation. I don't want to be part of the skinny girl club. I don't know that jargon. I'm much more of a phat girl at heart trapped in a smaller body.

The other day I actually ran into someone from my past who has similar weight issues as me. And when her brain processed who I was, I swear she tried to take flight in any direction to avoid me. And it hurt my feelings. Even though I thought I understood why she felt that way. It still sucked. I don't know where I fit. I don't like the different way people look at me. I don't like that even though I'm relatively controlled about what I consume and how I exercise, people assume that I'm some kind of food or fitness nazi.

I actually feel quite alone, like now I don't belong anywhere. Unless there's a formerly phat women's group out there?

Thoughts about Bigness

I'm carrying a slew of thoughts around in my head this week regarding size. So, you may read about a lot of them in the coming days.

Right now I'm focused on physicality. Tomorrow, I've made an appointment to go in and get my right lower back/hip/buttocks checked out. I've had issues there since I was 16 and injured the muscles in a soccer game (I used to play keeper for anyone who didn't know me then). I ended up tearing a number of muscles, which brought my soccer career to a temporary hold and earned me months of physical therapy. I could stand or I could lie down comfortably. Moving my leg to sit down or drive was terribly painful. I ended up taking my ACT standing up in the back of the cafeteria and standing through 6 hours of class each day. The x-rays the orthopedic surgeon took then said that nothing was broken, it was all muscular. But over the years, it's continued to give me problems. Of course, when I'd have issues and see a doctor (3 of them in the past 10 years), they'd always tell me that the problem was muscular (no x-rays were taken or actual tests given at these other appointments) and that if I'd lose 50 lbs the problem was likely to go away. Then they'd prescribe muscle relaxants and vicodin, tell me to rest for a couple of days and then start an walking program and watch what I ate. (But no actual guidance on how to do either.)

The same thing happened when I injured my IT bands training for a marathon in 2001 (my attempt to try to be more active). I strained them running on concrete during the practice marathon (I finished 23 of 26.2 miles before calling MacTroll, who rushed me home to ice them and then basically had to half carry me to the doctor's office the next morning, where I was given another 3 months of PT). That therapist said I was restricted to running 5k or less and gave me a list of stretches to do.

Before I got pregnant, I noticed my left foot hurt below the pinky toe. It made, what we referred to in yoga classes, "crunchies" whenever the foot was massaged or turned a certain way. So, I went to a podiatrist who told me that my obesity was causing tendonitis in my left foot and that I would need to wear comfortable shoes (as the inserts he built didn't help) and lose 50 lbs. in order to fix it.

Mmmm, do you see a magic number here?

So now I've lost over 83 lbs, and guess what? Both the areas are still tender. I'm guessing 50 lbs wasn't the magic number, and I'm feeling kind of angry at myself and at those doctors for just dismissing the problems as "just" being obesity related. Now that I'm older, and more familiar with my body, I'm better prepared to be my own advocate. Before, when they dismissed me because of my weight, I would get down on myself and beat myself up about how I was breaking myself for food, and I learned not to complain about them again, even though they still bothered me.

Here's hoping I can come to some kind of diagnosis and solution for both problems. They've both been managed through massage when the pain starts to peak. But massage always tends to only be a short-term solution. I don't want to just take ibuprofen for the pain. I want to know what's wrong and what I can do fix whatever is damaged in those areas through PT or personal training or pilates or yoga or whatever.

I need some answers. Is it just me? Or has anyone else ever felt like their physical complaints were just swept under the rug by the medical community because of their weight?

A Balancing Act

Yesterday I woke up ready to run... in my brain. I also woke up with a dry mouth, sore throat and nasty cough from postnasal drip. I decided to let my body rest a bit... so instead I cooked, baked and cleaned from 7 a.m. until 12:30 p.m. Then I had some CARE friends over to bake (holy cow they are awesome bakers and decorators). We do this at the holidays and then combine all of our cookies for teacher/neighbor gifts, etc. It's also a really nice way to spend the afternoon.

I stepped on the scale yesterday after a hard food week. I hate out three times (which is really hard to track). The worst was when I took MacTroll out for his Christmas gift on Friday night.

We drove down to Effingham and ate at the Firefly Grill and then went to the (now deceased) Rosebud Theatre to see Lewis Black. It was the first time in many months that I ate with my gut (literally) rather than my brain. And I felt pretty terrible about the whole thing. So when I stepped on my scale I was not surprised that the number went up instead of down. One week out of four in maintenance goes this way. It's an indication of my slowing fall. And, of course, it keeps me hovering in the low to mid 160's just slightly above the normal BMI of 159. So each time it happens, I get my brain and butt in gear and regroup. Then I have three good weeks. The crappy week always seems to follow a hormonal surge that drives the food cravings -- go figure.

But it's annoying. The scale stuff. The cold. The fact that I won't meet my calories burned goal, but will meet my 40 runs in 8 weeks goal. The fact that I went to bed last night at 6:30 p.m. absolutely exhausted, woke up at 7 a.m. this a.m. and still felt -- bleh.

And then there's the fact that one part of me wants to crawl back in bed this a.m. and the other part really wants to go to the gym and do a Body Blast class for the first time. But I also know I have to do my last Child Psych online test and work on my paper for class.

Now if only my child would eat his breakfast. Because that's the first challenge today.

DOH!

So, I registered for the Jingle Bell 5k on Sunday. And I wrote down that it's at 10 a.m. But it's at 2 p.m. At 2 p.m., I'll be sitting on my sofa with a bunch of girl friends baking cookies at my house, and, um, although I want to see how my 5k time has improved in a race environment (I had planned to run it doing Serena Williams' speed work out just to see what happens.), it now occurs to me that I don't have to do that. Instead, I could just run a 5k anywhere and see if my time improves. :-)

So, I'll be getting up to run a 5k on Sunday morning. Just me, by myself. I'm going to do it over at the Robeson Meadows West Park where the CU on the Trails 5k was. Special K and I ran there today and the course was still marked on the sidewalk. Sooo, my goal is to run it faster than 32:44. And I'm happy that the arthritis folks will benefit from my donation and race registration. :-)

But I'm not giving up cookie baking with my girls for anything. Even if I'm gong to pre-bake mine so we all have something to snack on -- so I can just sit on the couch and socialize.

P.S. This is the second time in the last 3 weeks I've messed up on days and times. It's nothing that's dire. (I still pick up my kid on time and drop him off on time.) But it does make me wonder if I'm overbooking myself, or if I'm losing my short term memory. We all know I'm insane, but usually I'm pretty punctual. I mean at least 80 percent of the time... unless my kid won't get in the car, or there's a train or I have a flat tire.

Tonight I'm skipping the downtown parade festivities and taking MacTroll out for his Christmas present. We're having a date night, but it's kind of a surprise, so I'll blog about it tomorrow. :-)

Does someone have the keys to these cuffs?

From the moment he woke up this morning X-man has been all over me: Literally. He couldn't separate from me in the a.m. so I could make his breakfast. Every 3 seconds was "Mom!" with a list of crazy demands. He refused to take no for an answer, and when I gave him the silent treatment he just started screaming his demands louder. Talking only got him upset and hitting or making a fist and shaking it at me. Hugs got screams of "Let go of me!" or "You're hurting me! I'm bleeding now! I'm calling the police!" Time outs only got fits of outrageous violence.

Finally, I threw my hands up, wrestled him into some clothes after breakfast, distracted him with a toy to get him to the car, buckled him in and dropped him off at the Tiger room thankful that for the next six hours he'd be in their care, which was going to be about a zillion times healthier and more sane than if we were together all day.

I went walking with LibbyGirl and Thunder McGavin, which always helps me feel better, but didn't clear my head. I ate my lunch in silence thinking about this attachment thing. You fight tooth and nail to make sure your child knows you're there for him, but then you walk the balance of making sure he knows that you're not about to be his servant. It's funny, at 18 months, he was all Mr. Independent, I'll do it myself. Now at 3 1/2 he's all sit on the couch and issue unmet demands.

We made some house rules over the weekend. We all got to contribute to the list of 8. I started since it was my idea. And the most important rule I could think of was to be respectful and polite. X-man's most important rule was not to play with matches. MacTroll's was to be careful with electronics (?-- yes, I'm serious).

When I picked X-man up, it was a similar thing. He hadn't napped today and his teachers warned me that he was in a pretty raw emotional state all afternoon. And it was obvious he was shaken up. He couldn't clearly communicate in the fact that one minute he wanted something and the next he didn't. He was giddy over the idea of our meet up today and playing with friends and making animal cracker trains -- until the friends got there, and then he only wanted to play with me.

I put him in the tub at 7:20 p.m. It took me 20 minutes to get him upstairs and in a state where he could stop screaming in my face about still wanting to eat dinner (he sat at the table for an hour... he consumed 1/2 and then stopped and kept playing with it). Now he's in there ordering around the Wiggles and Toy Story characters. I'll fish him out at 8 p.m. and hope he goes down by 8:20 p.m. Because, boy howdy (as MacTroll would say), does he need some sleep.

I'm working tomorrow at Mother's Morning Out. They're apparently separating from First Presbyterian and moving buildings! My aunt got a note in the mail from the church the other day, but I'll find out more about that tomorrow. I have to be there at 8:15 a.m., so X-man is going to have a long day at Next Generation, since I also have to do a LONG run in the afternoon to try and keep up my calorie goal. I'm closing in, but it's going to be rough. And then I won't do another calorie challenge until the spring. Instead, I'm going to insert some swimming during lunch time or evenings next semester over at the Urbana Aquatic Center. A little high cardio/non impact should do my body good.