Square One… All Over Again

Hi! Welcome to my blog, my name is Kat and I'm a recovering unhealthy person. (read: fat chick)


Ok… so why am I introducing myself all over again you ask? Well that's simple… we're back at the beginning. I am physically and nearly mentally back where I was when I stepped on the dance floor damn near 4 years ago…. What the hell happened????


Well… I'm not exactly sure of all the steps I tripped and bumbled over to get back HERE. Back to the land of the out of shape, not dancing, vaguely resembling miserable state I'm currently in. But here I am…. In a bit of pain, up almost two pant sizes from where I was, lacking most of the motivation that I had a year ago at this time.


Well Shit. (uh oh.. she only curses when she's angry)


It came upon me earlier when I was at my first PT appt. I was being assessed as they do to check where you're at with range of motion and all that. In my case we were of course focusing on my ankle. In the process of assessing the way I walk, and all that… it's been pretty much decided that every joint and muscle group from the hips down is pretty much all wired wrong. To the point where I'm pretty sure the therapist seriously doubted my ability to dance properly.


Well that sucks… but I also came to one realization: I've SERIOUSLY fallen to the bottom of the stairs I was so diligently trying to climb, and I HAAAAATE it! I may not be down to that last step yet, but I'll be damned if I'm going to be putting time and money and effort into healing this ankle only to have to start over with Largo, what RT and I had set out at the start to accomplish. I've been so AFRAID of damaging my ankle further than it's already gone, afraid of not doing my paying job well enough, afraid of oversleeping. Just plain afraid that I completely and totally irrevocably, lost sight of what the heck I was living for.


Life is Grand! Existence Freak'n Sucks.


I've had all the conversations with myself… trust me ALL of them… (mostly while also berating myself for sitting on the couch and watching TV). They go something like this:


Why don't I just suck it up and go back to the gym?


What if I KILL my ankle... it's already half dead. Look at it all puffy… why am I even taking this medication if it's not working?


Well that's never stopped me before. I have to take the meds for a month at minimum so it's probably going to take longer than a week to work.


It's gonna hurt.


Shut up, I am in some level of pain every day and actually forget to tell people about it because I don't feel it enough to matter, not only that but I actually revel in the pain that can only be brought on by a good workout. (sad fact)


*sigh*


I got myself in this mess again… it's time to claw out of it.


Oh but (insert show here) is on in 10 minutes.


Which is why I pay monthly for a Digital Video Recorder.


I don't have anything clean to wear to the gym.


So I should get off my duff and go to the Laundromat that is directly NEXT TO THE GYM. I can work out when I'm finished. Or just wear the closest thing to clean… no one is gonna care.


I'm gonna care, they still know me in there.


Laundry will take like three hours.


I am the most impossible person to argue with.


Yep, and I'm arguing with myself.


I'll start tomorrow.


Well there have been lots and lots of tomorrows. The buck stops here, I'm not waiting for tomorrow.


 
Which also brings the question (since I know I have written about this before) why is this time different? Well it's not… it's the same level of conviction I have every time I try to rally to come back from a stint off the wagon of health. The only difference is… I really let myself go this time.


Yeah you could put part of the blame on the ankle… you could put part of it on how I felt after RT left… you could put it on the fact that I felt the need to get used to my job and stop all my extra working out…. you could put the blame squarely on my year of unemployment.


Are you noticing the common denominator?


All those reasons are… sorry, not reasons…. Excuses.

 
ME


I'm the common denominator in every one. Not a single external source, it was all the way I was feeling… I could have pulled myself out of it. I really could have. But I didn't. Wow… sometimes I just plain old suck.


So in the spirit of the rally and how much I seem to love being the underdog in all of this…


Here we go again….


Clothes are laid out for tomorrow… not including the pedometer only because the only workout machine I can really get any cardio in on right now is the bike, and my workout clothes are freshly laundered, my Digital Video Recorder is set to catch anything I might want to watch on TV at a later time.


Next PT appointment is on Tuesday morning before work, I will be there every Tuesday and Thursday morning obtaining knowledge about my sucky ankle range of motion, and how to strengthen all the other various muscle groups from the hips down, as I try to rehab this injured ankle back to some semblance of order.


Hello Life, my name is Kat… and I'm just warning you… I'm working my way back to taking over.