As much as I was looking forward to tearing away that last 2010 calendar page, I’m a little disheartened that 2011 hasn't started off with as much fabulosity as I’d hoped for. By the 1st, we’d managed to not only contract the stomach flu, but we also smuggled it across the Idaho/Utah state border to share with everyone in our household. Mikayla, Brooklyn, and Steven (all in that order and also in order of severity) shared a sick bed, while I went to work praying I wasn’t contaminated and spreading icky flu germs to everyone I know. By the 5th we were on our way to meeting the new insurance deductible that kicked in only shortly after meeting it for the 2010 plan year. Is that tax deductible? Also on the 5th or 6th, I was met with the disappointment of hitting neither the winning MegaMillions or Powerball numbers that were purchased in Idaho, probably at the very Maverick where we stopped to buy our own tickets and fill up with gas to make said journey home carrying the flu. Crap! On the 7th, I received an email forward promising all manner of surprises and good fortune by merely forwarding it on. So, before I tear off a single page of the 2011 calendar, I’m going to start counting the 5 surprises I was promised by forwarding along the email. Let me digress……
As any of the 8 people who actually follow my blog know, this year has been nothing short of a struggle. I’m not going to bother going into all the reasons why…that would defeat the entire purpose of my 2011 goals from my December 2010 blog article (see below). What I will admit again is that I am still trying to overcome some issues from 2010: a tiny bout of depression, a more than tiny weight gain from said tiny bout of depression, a broken give-a-damn which helped bring about the tiny bout of depression, a medical diagnosis that scared the living daylights out of me, thus requiring a medically necessary surgery, and a 6-8 week recovery time of which I am only at week 6. (But, I’m back to being nearly perfect now, so no need to worry! I’m cured!) At my last doctor’s follow-up I was complaining about all of my post-surgical “differences”, despite feeling physically healed. The doctor went through my list of prescribed medications, including all the new menopausal hormones I have the privilege of taking now, and together we tried to identify all of the differences and what is realistic to expect in upcoming weeks/months post-op. At the end of what seemed like a long list of “differences”, the topic of exercise was raised. Would you believe there is no pill for him to prescribe that will make me want to go back to 5 am workouts? I expressed my displeasure in the pharmaceutical industry. The good doctor basically said (and I paraphrase), “SUCK IT UP, BUTTERCUP!” At the conclusion of his peptalk, he rescheduled me for 6 weeks out (February 16th), and told me to get back to the gym pronto and that I had the next 6 weeks to figure something out on my own. If not, we’d start tweeking the meds, adding this…decreasing that…and I would perhaps need the next several months to get it figured out, or I would likely be taking enough testerosterone to turn me into a man. OK…..several more days of doing nothing would put me back in a size that I’m not that interested in returning to. Honestly, I’ve got 5 more pounds before I don’t have a single article of clothing that fits. And, although my boss was quite understanding when I showed up in sweats for 4 weeks in a row because nothing fit post-op, I’m quite sure it’s not a very flattering office wardrobe. Honestly, why is it easier to do nothing and bitch about it than it is to do something and feel good about it?
Well, I am officially done bitching (only about this, of course). Thanks to a friend who called last night and said, “What’s the deal? Are you going back to the gym or not?” Apparently, she was in a similar quandary of having a broken give-a-damn too. So, we promised each other we’d be there at 5 am and I was excited that together we could bitch about hormones and weight gain, and the skinny biotches with incredibly perky new boobs who wear a only bra to workout in, and whatever else we wanted to. So there….I went back to the gym today. Apparently, when you don’t go to the gym for 4 months, gym management sees fit to make changes without consulting you. What……….? Now I have to bring my own lock? And who thought removing the paper towel dispenser was a good idea? Now I have to blow-dry? No membership card scanner? Now 24-Hour Fitness uses finger print technology? You’ve got to be kidding me….
Whatever. The point is that I am trying to find my give-a-damn. The one that helped me lose 60 lbs. The one that got me into those skinny jeans with an ass that looked like it did before age and gravity stole it away from me. The one that took me to the gym every day, made me sweat, got me through spin class, and made me proud to be an almost forty-something. Well, now I AM forty-something and want to look and feel thirty-something again.
So, back to the surprises………I forwarded that stupid email (from paragraph 1, in case you forgot) to 20+ people and my 5 surprises and good fortune are due by January 28th. I can’t wait to tell you about each and every one of them, as I am certain they will come.
Surprise #1 (took exactly 3 days to arrive): the desire to go back to the gym
Stay tuned…..
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