This is not a feeling I’m used to. I’m pretty good at shaking myself out of funks. I pride myself on being able to look at the big picture. I know that today is temporary and there is so much more ahead of me.
But this week has been hard. So. Hard.
I go to the Y 5-6 times a week. Granted, I can only do two things at the Y right now: swim without kicking or row. Oh! And I can do limited weights – so three things. I can do three things for my workout right now. I’m pretty damn determined to keep up with those three things. Working out is an important part of my health – both physical and mental. I have worked out 5-6 times a week for as long as I can remember save breaks for pregnancies… and it’s been 13 years since I was pregnant.
It’s discouraging to know that I can only do two types of workouts right now (sorry, three). I’m giving them my all mind you. But it’s still discouraging. These workouts don’t burn a lot of calories. Take into account the mandated rest periods I’ve had at different points in this Achilles recovery process and I’m a full 20 pounds heavier than I was at this time last year. In fact, I’m pretty sure I’m at my heaviest weight ever. And while I’m not a person that pays much attention to the number on the scale. My clothes don’t fit well and I feel gross.
To recap: I don’t have the normal stress relief of working out so I’m stressed. I don’t have the normal calorie burning benefits of working out so I’m fat. I don’t have the normal endorphins from working out so I’m depressed.
Hey Internet… I’m having a hard time being positive.
I saw a friend at the Y today and she was all “I feel so bad for you.” and “I don’t know how you do it. It’s so impressive that you keep coming in even when you can’t get in a strong workout.” and “It’s been such a long recovery! I’m so sorry.” And I know she means well but you guys… I feel bad for me too. And part of me is ready to just throw in the towel, eat some extra Reese Peanut Butter hearts and call it a day (or year at this point).
I won’t. But damn do I feel lousy. All the way around lousy. And there’s really no end in sight. I could run through the pain but I know that’s a stupid solution. So I’ll sit here… fat and stressed. And I’ll strap on my damn walking boot and I’ll try again tomorrow. But I just needed to tell someone… this really sucks.