Chronic Pain, Repeat Gain & Loss, and Support

Who knew? source

I don't have much to report today. I'm ashamed that I keep losing and gaining the same 5-8 pounds. I need to get more focused and I need to exercise. I can work on the focus, but the exercise is something I can't physically do right now unfortunately.

Between my CRPS and this Vitamin D deficiency kicking my ass with serious pain, I simply can't exercise. There are times I can barely walk at all. So what's a chunky girl to do? Keep working on her diet, that's what. I promise to keep trying if y'all promise to stick with me through this rough patch. Here is a list of reasons for you to hang in there with me:

• I'm funny as fuck. Well, I think so anyway. Who the hell else names the pounds they lose AND their inner chunky and skinny girls. I say no one, that's who. Boom.
• I can use all the support I can get. I'm horrible at keeping on track with a lot of things including not pigging out on sweets. Is it my fault that chocolate and pie are so damn delicious?
• I'd do it for you! I am by nature a very supportive person. I think it has something to do with being a woman and chronic illness sufferer. I get it.

So there you have it. If this list didn't convince you, well then I don't know what will, people. I hope everyone had a great weekend and Easter if you celebrate the holiday. Much love to you all and I promise to do better.

Night-time snacking or "I really need a hobby"

Oh my dear, it's been 40 posts already? Coincidentally, today also marks my dearest and onliest sister's fortieth birthday, so all in all it's a day of milestones.

I must confess, I've not been doing well. To make an obscure cultural reference that may or may not have come from South Park, "I Rack Disciprine!"

It's terrible. Not tracking, not really exercising. I still go to kickboxing on the regular, but the dance nights and the walks have definitely waned.

And I'm snacking at night again, which is a problem. I dunno, I guess I'm bored. I'm generally pretty good during the day at work, and I'm pretty good when people are around, but by myself with nothing to do it's all graze, graze, graze. It's not even like I don't have anything to do... I could blog, play my guitar... Hell, I could paint. I have at least three paintings started that i haven't touched in ages. These are all things that keep my hands busy, but I find at night I'm too tired to get up the motivation to do these things, but still too wound up after getting the girls to bed to just go the hell to bed and thus avoid the snack-trap.

I'm not even snacking for pleasure or because i'm still hungry after dinner. More just for something to do. Bugger. I've made a wee bit of progress that I don't want to lose but dammit, I need some motivation back. Summer is coming and I'd like to be back in all my summery clothes. The Warrior Dash is a scant four months away and I need to train and be in at least half-decent shape for that.

I need to kick my own ass is what I need. I've been kicking my ass at work to get more done, I've been kicking my ass at home to keep my house clean (this is day four of it being tidy!) now I need to kick my ass to keep motivated with my food tracking and workouts.

Any suggestions?

Pigging Out

Many of you know that I'm from Texas and damn proud of it! Being a Texan, and specifically a small-town, Southeast Texan, means BBQ, gumbo, fried everything and bake sales at the local high school. Yum right? Food has been an important part of my life since forever. My mom is an amazing cook, whipping up recipes passed down for generations. We're talking pies made with sticks of butter and heavy cream, cinnamon chocolate layer cakes, slow-cooked beef tips and noodles (my favorite), and various other dishes that make me salivate just visualizing them. I'm proud that I come from a long line of fantastic home cooks. My dad is a chili cookoff champion! He loves to cook and show off his recipes whenever he can.

That's not always good!

In Texas we do everything big. I'm sure you've heard that before and if you're a Texan, you know it's true. Our food is even bigger, for Pete's sake. Seriously...have you ever seen a chicken fried steak prepared in a Texas restaurant? It hangs off of the plate and is smothered in cream gravy. It's the land of, "Honey, getcha some more of that_____". That blank can be filled with any number of foods, potato salad, baked beans, fried okra, etc. It's hard to resist all of these things and I always thought, "One more little taste won't hurt". Those "little tastes" add up quick. Real quick.

Yes, please!

My mom tells the story of what a good baby I was. As long as I had my bottle I was happy. Geez! Even as a baby I loved eating! Am I predisposed to being overweight? Is it genetics? Who the hell knows! My mom is thin. My sister is thin, though we have different fathers and apparently the father I never knew had all the "fat genes" on his side. Thanks a lot for that (among countless other things), asshole. I can tell you this, I still love to eat. I'm not picky. I love vegetables, fruit, meat, sweets. You name it. There are very few things (broccoli yuck!), you can serve me that I won't love. Unless it's some weird part of an animal and then we may have an issue. So, even though genetics probably played a part in this, I can't blame my genes for the fact that I love to eat.

Fuck you, Mirror!

I have a love/hate relationship with food, just like I'm guessing my girls here on the blog do. That's most likely true for anyone battling their weight. I could sit and eat brisket or tacos or hamburgers or pie, day in and day out. I'd feel so good when they touch my taste buds! Then... I'd beat myself up for "being a pig". I'd look in the mirror after I downed a dessert that I didn't need and feel like shit because of the "pig face" I see. That's my go-to insult for myself. Pig face. I hate the pig face. I hate my mirror. Fuck you, Mirror! How can I do this to myself over and over and over again? I know that when I eat something that's not good for me that I'll feel guilty and punish myself mentally. So why the fuck do I keep doing it? I don't know. I really don't know.

I never really had issues with food growing up because I was an athlete and I would burn off whatever I ate. It was when I got older and the ol' metabolism slowed down and I had to have a hysterectomy, that the pounds added up and I started this cycle of eating whatever I wanted and then beating myself up afterward. When I had to begin a plethora of medications for CRPS and was unable to exercise like before, I took notice of what I was eating, but it didn't stop me from having that pie or whatever. It feels so good to indulge doesn't it? Everything tastes like the best thing you ever ate when you know you shouldn't have it, right? How can it be so bad for me, when it tastes so good? That pisses me right the fuck off. When broccoli starts to taste like chocolate, I'll start eating it. Ha!

No pig face for me!

I'm getting better at choosing the right things to eat. I'm trying to eat things that are baked or grilled, rather than fried or covered in creamy sauces. It's tough eating out, but I'm trying y'all. I'm trying. I don't want to look in the mirror anymore and see a pig face. I want to see the woman I used to think was pretty. I want to feel pretty again. I'm hopeful that sharing my ups and downs with all of you will help me say goodbye to the pig face forever. Say it with me...Fuck off, Pig Face!!

Hi! I'm Mrs. One Day and I'm a Food-o-holic!

I'm gonna be 40 in May. 40! Geez, I can't believe I'm already at that point in my life. I mean, it really seems like I was just a 20-something woman with a size 8 body and the world in the palm of my hand. Now I look at that size 14 or 16 label in my jeans and get teary eyed. I've been disabled since 2008 and I see no world in my palm. That saying makes me smirk at the irony actually. You see it's my left hand/arm that have the problem. 

God I hope that's true.

                             

​I have Complex Regional Pain Syndrome (CRPS), sometimes referred to as Reflex Sympathetic Dystrophy (RSD). Quite a mouthful isn't it? If you aren't familiar with CRPS, check out this excellent information on the oh-so-helpful bandbacktogether.com, http://bandbacktogether.com/complex-regional-pain-syndrome-resources/ . Because of this, and several other, medical issues, I have a hard time with exercise. My pain is excruciating at worst and annoying as hell, at best. I have a grocery list of medical problems that I won't bore you with now, but suffice it to say, I'm a sickly chicky. It sucks and I've written about it in my personal blog, onedayimgonna.blogspot.com, which is weird because it's a humor blog. Every now and then I get a little bit intimate over there, but mostly it's about the laughs.

​So, I guess you get the general picture here. I developed CRPS in 2008 and have since gained about 40 extra pounds that I hate. I'm thinking of naming each one so that when I lose them, I can shout, "Fuck you, Ira! Off you go!" Doesn't Ira totally work as a "pound" name? Maybe I'll make a list of their names and post it. Maybe not. It's weird right? Let me get this train back on the track now. Alrighty, so I am trying my best to get rid of Ira and his fatty friends. How, you ask? Portion control and dancing which masquerades as exercise. Yay! I find that I'm having so much fun I sometimes forget that I'm working out and the next day my butt, legs, arms and back are sore as hell. That's how I know I actually did something productive for my body. Woohoo! 

We've all been here, no?

​​Bottom line is this. I have very little will power...very little. I'm a caver. I'm a rationalizaton-er. I'm a word maker upper apparently too. My tendency is to eat several things that seem "not-so-bad" throughout the day, not thinking of how they add up. I rationalize it by saying, "But it's only 50 calories!", which would be okay if it were just the one 50 calorie item. It usually isn't. I'm pretty good about the working out because, like I said before, it's fun dancing around the house!

At least THAT'S not us right?

I need this blog for support from my fellow contributers (who I adore by the way), and from readers like you. I promise to do my best and share all of my ups (and downs), if you promise to do it with me. Kick me in the ass if I need it (and I will). Give me a high five when I deserve one and dammit let's get rid of Ira and all the rest of them!

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