As always, I started my new me bullshit with good intentions. I had MFP and a lifting plan. After the first day, the lifting plan went down the drain. I pushed myself way too hard on that first workout, forgetting that my body is not the same as it was 8 years ago. I could barely walk without extreme pain and a limp for four fucking days. It was on the fourth day that I could finally exercise again. I rode my stationary bike for 20 minutes a day for the rest of the week, took it "easy" but it was agonizing. My legs burned and I was short of breath. Saturday I was determined to get a PR and got over 6 miles in 20 minutes. On level one. I suck.
Food has been good. I was logging with MFP until Thursday, when I opted to uninstall it and just use my FitBit app. I still use MFP for calculating the nutrition of recipes but that's all I plan to use it for. Once I finally figured out how to track sodium with the FitBit (through the Dashboard on their web site), I felt like the FitBit app was enough for my purposes. I'm trying to keep my calories under 1500 and my sodium under 2000 mg (but closer to 1500 mg if possible). So far I'm doing well. I've been sticking to mostly unprocessed foods. I'm down to 162 pounds, so that's a 10 pound loss (based on my scale) over the last 6 weeks.
So why am I so angry? Lots of reasons. I was sitting there on my bike today, pedaling along and knowing I wasn't going to get a PR. I just didn't have the energy. I started thinking about how I can't do Turbo Jam because it hurts my legs, and how I can't dance (if you call what my body does when music plays dancing) because it hurts my legs and I get too winded. I'm reminded every time I walk up the flight of stairs to my apartment that there is something seriously wrong with my body. I shouldn't have to lie down and rest for 10 minutes after climbing 15 steps. I'm angry that I let my body fall apart, that I didn't keep up with the badassery I achieved back in 2010, that I can't run 5Ks anymore or Turbo for an hour. I hate that I can't do the simplest of chores without needing a break.
I'm also angry how expensive it is to eat healthy foods, and how long it is taking for my taste buds to adjust to no added salt. I am angry that in addition to reducing sodium, I also have to lose weight, while my boyfriend eats Little Debbies because they are low in sodium. Spare me that moderation bullshit (I told you I am angry and resentful). I can't do that. I can't stop at just one treat. This entire blog evolved out of my tendency to binge eat. It pisses me off that I can't have shit like that now and then because there is no such thing as now and then for me.
I'm also angry that I'm angry. PAD is not a death sentence. It's a manageable disease. Will I ever be 100%? No. I'm lucky I am being diagnosed and treated now, while I am still "young" and not after I've had a stroke or heart attack. I'm mad that I let it bother me this much, instead of living the best life that I can.
Speaking of best life, my doctor put me on Lexapro and it has helped a lot. There are times when I actually feel content. I don't feel hate anymore. I am planning a future I actually look forward to. I still wish I drank or smoked pot though. My mind and body are missing something. Just every now and then, I want to feel blissfully disconnected from myself. For now, the best I can do is an extra Benadryl.
When I'm not angry, I'm pretty okay.
