Episode 56: Rebirth

Hi! 

I know, I haven't been around much lately. When you're living a life of this much bliss, you can't be bothered to do much blogging, I suppose.  Well, mostly bliss anyway.  Things are good... for the most part.

Except my weight.

I seem to have reached some sort of plateau.  I'm not really losing weight, but I'm not gaining too much weight either. I rubber band around mffmmm and mffmm, gaining or losing about 2 or 3 pounds every time I weigh in.

This needs to stop.

So, Easter is coming up.  I don't celebrate it, as I have a tiny little hitch in my whole stance of belief and religion.  That being said, Easter is an interesting time.  It is a time when the Christian world celebrates the rebirth of their god with stolen pagan rituals.  But it's that word, that term rebirth that gets me thinking. 

Once a year, most of the world (about a third, really.. 2.2 billion, according to Wikipedia) reflect on rebirth once a year.  Their God is reborn after three days.  I think I'll take a cue from them, and consider my own bit of rebirth.

I need to get back on track.  I need to be counting points, spending time exercising.  Recently, AM and I went to Japantown in San Francisco and did about 5 hours (conservative estimate) of walking.  We actually stayed for 6 and a half hours, but I'm giving us an hour an a half for the times we sat down to eat, write, talk, enjoy each other's company.  We had a really great time just hanging out and engulfing ourselves in the two malls that surround the Japanese Peace Plaza.  (If you're my friend on Facebook, I will post some pictures).  We hung out at MaiDo, we strolled around, we had lunch at Mifuna (I could be wrong on the name), and altogether it was wonderful!  And we walked so much!!

And when we got home... we felt it!  I don't exercise much, and my body screamed in the only way that it could that I need to do walking more often.  Maybe not 5 hours in one day, but a half an hour - maybe an hour a day - may not be the worst thing for my system.  So, part of my rebirth will be walking, even if it is just walking daily down to the market to pick up a little bit of groceries for dinner.

Since... well, let's say since January... I haven't been big on meal planning and counting points.  Those things get in the way when you have a Nubi (good frozen yogurt) just down the street from you.  Those things get in the way when you are suddenly rediscovering that the city that you live in has wonderful cuisines that you have never tried before (like the Greek cuisine I had never noticed in Stockton before.. and the Vietnamese.. and the tiny Italian places).  Those things get in the way when you start focusing on work and grading and really teaching lessons that make your students thing.  Counting points and calories hasn't been much on my priority list. 

But they need to be.  I don't want to live forever, but I don't want to die early either.  If I stay at my current weight and my current eating pattern (high sodium, fat and sugar content) I will develop some serious illnesses. I am already on the path to diabetes and I already have to take a slough of medications for high blood pressure.  My asthma has begun to kick up again and my back has thrown in its screaming pain along with all of the else that is going on.  If I want to be healthier and happier, I have to stick to a diet rich in foods that are healthy for me. (I hate the word diet.  It implies something temporary to me in a way that is like "With this 8 week diet, you'll lose 50 pounds!" which never really works out because these diet plans are ridiculous starvation acts that deprive your body of healthy nutrients and carbohydrates that your brain and other organs need to function! Diet for me means "the way I eat every day.") Counting points and making sure that I check off all of the items on that healthy eating list are important for me. AM and I have littered our apartment with whiteboards and reminder notebooks. It is time I used them.

The last part of my rebirth is my blog.  I need to start blogging again.  I meant it to be a record of my journey, perhaps a way for me to express myself that will give other people hope, ideas and the occasional recipe or healthy hint that they can take away from it.  I honestly don't really expect very many people to read it, but I enjoy writing it and sharing my life with my family and friends, who I have been spending a lot more time with lately.  I need to get back onto a nearly daily updating routine. Maybe a "just before bedtime" bit of writing, just to check in. Maybe a quick 15 minute "this is my motivation for today' writing in the mornings. All I know is that I need to get back to it.  This is (mostly) for me.

I have been lax, and inherent in that laziness has been the weight that I have gained and the lack of exercise and good eating.  I am a responsible adult.  I have the tools I need to succeed. Now I need to use them.

Hoping that you find your own rebirth this weekend,
Love and Lollipops,

ToryLynn

Episode 8: Stress sucks!

Got a call this morning for the cardiologist who has been trying to get in touch with me for the last week to schedule a treadmill stress test.  I finally agreed to come in, and the nurse decided to pin me down then and there and tell me to come in that afternoon and that I wasn't allowed to eat anything at all until the test.  Suddenly I found myself getting very incredibly hungry, and stayed so until after I was done and finally got something to eat.

Not the healthiest eating today because of it, but I stayed under points, and if I needed to, I could have a banana with my corn chex "dessert" that will help build my fruits and veggies up to where I want them.

So, dressed in my comfy sweats, Nanowrimo T-shirt and tennis shoes, I wandered over to the doctor's office and was greeted by a form explaining that they weren't responsible if I had to have extra tests or if I had a heart attack as I was on the treadmill.  I skimmed the letter, signed it and waited for them to hook me up the machine.

The very kind cardiac nurse offered me a hospital gown made of stiff cotton and approximately 8 sizes too big for me. It felt like a tent, which is sort of impressive in its size.  She then wrapped a belt around my waist and proceeded to rub an abrasive lotion on my skin so that the test nodules would stick better.  She added an octopus looking device - a small black box with numerous wires extending from it- and began to attach the octopus to the indicators around my chest and under my breast.  Then a sock of a blood pressure cuff that wrapped around my arm tightly, and I was ready.

They asked me to sit for five minutes to get a "resting" reading. I read McEwan, barely noticing what was on the page.  My blood pressure was 146/70.. or something close to that. Heart rate at 76.  My target for the day was 157.  Not too bad...Then the very nice nurse practitioner came in, asked if I had any questions (I rarely do) and then stuck me on the treadmill.

It started off slow enough, and then rose to an incline.  I could feel the muscles in my legs begin to burn, and my left arm begin to tingle again, the numbness spreading to my fingers.  The speed increased and the treadmill continued to incline, and I felt my calves continue to burn and the air in my lungs constricting as I struggled.  Looking at the heart monitor, my pulse began to rise.. 100... 100.. 115.  In continued to huff and puff, breathing in deeply through my nose but feeling the pain with every breath.  My chest felt that familiar constricting feeling, but I kept going.  120... 130... 140...  My arm constrained against the blood pressure cuff and I watched the reading of that rise as well.. hitting 160/70.. 165/75.. Everything tingled and hurt and burned.

The nurse warned me that the treadmill would increase in speed and inclination and I can only nod, I cannot speak at all.  It begins to rise and all I can think is "I don't want to pass out... I don't want to pass out."  Breathing has become much more difficult and my lungs feel like someone is squeezing them  together. I can barely catch a breath.  The NP starts to cheer me on.. "Only 5 more.. only 3 more.. you can do it".

Finally... finally, they let me sit down again and start to measure my recovering heart rate.  I watch it slow down on the monitor, the little peaks of the EKG becoming fewer and farther between until my heart rate gets near to 100 again and my breathing starts to normalize. I am still wheezing and fighting a cough, but I made it through. Pink paper cycles through the printer and shows them exactly what my heart was doing.

The nurse explains that I am fine.  My heart is strong, but I still need to lose weight (duh!).  My 10 year survival rate is calculated at 99%. I think I'll be fine.

Good.  I never ever ever want to do that again!