My Stream-of-Conscious Takes a Stroll

Ah, Zumba. You are both bane and blessing. Where else could I find two one-hour aerobic classes a week for free? But the pain... The PAIN. Ugh.

Monday's class went really well; I actually remembered most of the steps! And despite fiber-induced gas pains, I managed to stick it out the entire hour (which was thoroughly enjoyable). It was a great way to celebrate my first official loss since starting -- as of Monday afternoon, I'm 1.8 pounds lighter! That brings my current total loss at 4.2 pounds. It was very gratifying to see that on the scale. To be honest, I didn't feel any different, and there was considerable fear that I hadn't lost anything at all. But there it was: proof that eating smarter does indeed make a difference!

So again, Monday night was a blast. I felt good and tired afterwards, compared to the immediate pain I'd felt after my first class last week. Little did I know that it was biding its time, waiting to sneak up on me while I slept.

Cue yesterday morning, 4:45 am. The alarm jerked me awake from a dead sleep. I lay there for a while dreading the thought of actually getting out of bed. I knew it would hurt. Quite frankly, I'm surprised I didn't wake anyone else up with my zombie-esque shambling around. And it didn't let up much once work started, which was bad since we got a surprise 8k units added to the 4.8k already scheduled . . . turning a three hour day into nine excruciating hours. The stiffness wouldn't have even been that bad if my feet hadn't started acting up again, too. I'd planned on going for my afternoon walk after work, but by the time I got off it was all I could do to hobble out to the car and get myself home.

That's kind of where I'm at right now. Other than Zumba, I haven't done anything active beyond what's required for work. (Granted, that's a day full of walking, but still.) My feet just hurt too much. I'm attributing much of that to old shoes and the fact that this is the first week I've really worked a normal schedule since Christmas. I'm praying it gets better soon -- I miss my walks (and spending time in Barnes & Noble afterwards.)

Other thoughts that I've had this week: other than dealing with some pain, this whole venture has been remarkably easy so far. Why has it taken me this long to do anything about my health? And so much has changed already. My portions are smaller, and I'm actually feeling full after just a fraction of what I'm used to eating. I haven't even really needed my flex points, which is a shock. And vegetables? They don't scare me. Not like they used to. I'm actually finding myself craving things like brussel sprouts and peas and carrots. What's wrong with me?!? Who is this new person running around in my head?? It's the most bizarre thing, and I'm having a hard time reconciling this new way of thinking with how I view myself.

And there's that ambiguous thing called self-image. Like it was mentioned in my first post, I've always been considerably overweight. I hit 90lbs in third grade; 200lbs in seventh. I was never the princess or romantic figure in any game or play. For years I don't think I was ever actually treated like a girl, just a human with female parts. All people see (or as I've forever told myself) is the fat. All they see some fat girl who isn't worth their time. So why should I aspire to anything else? Actually writing that down makes me sound crazy. But it's how I've always seen myself. And at the same time, the thought of eventually losing all the extra weight (essentially half of my current self) is terrifying. I don't know that person. I can't visualize her at all.

This is going to be a long journey. Guess I'll find out who I really am along the way.