Life is Healthy

I woke up yesterday with one of the worst stiff necks I've had in a while. I have to get up all through the night to let the puppy out, so I think that I'm sleeping with one eye open. And then I never get in a comfortable position and end up sleeping in some twisted, mangled mess. Anyway, I feel better today.

I don't have a calorie count for yesterday because I wasn't counting. Also, my weight is up by three pounds. I'm not sure what's up with that. For the past two days, I haven't cared. But I have to get back into it. At least I haven't gained a lot. I think it's mostly water retention. I've said it before, and I'll say it again, menopause sucks.

I made it to the gym today. I did 49 minutes on the treadmill—24 minutes walking backward and 25 minutes walking forward with 15 of those minutes doing gradual inclines all the way up to 15%. Then I stretched for 10 minutes. And to make it all worthwhile, I saw My Gym Hunk. Tomorrow, I have to get back to the weights. I don't want to lose the muscle I've gained. I wish the aerobics classes would start up again.

I don't feel defeated in the weight-loss department, but I don't feel like—why am I even trying? If I just maintain, I'll be happy. But I'll keep trying. I don't know what else to do.

Not much else to say today.

Post Script
Two A-Holes Go for a Walk
I took the boys for a 30-minute walk at lunch time. That gives me a total of 79 minutes of cardio activity for today.

I have been dealing with one of the worst sinus infections I've had in years. I finally made it to the walk in clinic on Sunday. By that time, the infection was so bad it was causing pressure on my inner ear--I was so dizzy I didn't know if I could drive to the clinic or not. But I made it--and back--and managed not to kill anyone or myself. I guess that's obvious though or I wouldn't be here writing this. I'm on Omnicef--which is killing my stomach. But I feel so much better. I took yesterday and today off from work and the gym. I didn't think walking on a treadmill would've been a good idea for someone who is as lightheaded as I've been. My ear is still popping a little bit, too.

So I haven't done much about diet or exercise for the past five days--not that I've been eating large amounts of food. It's hard to eat when you feel like you might throw up. I've been drinking a lot tea. But I weighed myself this morning and--no weight loss. I'm just stuck forever. I can't figure it out. I do feel like I'm more toned from all of the intensive interval exercise. But I'm not losing any weight. What gives? Menopause? Thyroid disease? What is it? I will not give up though. If there's one thing that can be said for me, it's that I'm one hardheaded woman. That didn't work--try something else.

I have a friend who swears by Atkins. He lost 125 pounds using the plan. I may try that again--this time with some real effort. I mean I'll actually do the plan and not sneak in a bunch of fruit. And I may, she says while swallowing her pride, ask him for his help. Huh. I just thought. Maybe if I didn't swallow so much pride, I would lose some weight.

I've had surprising number of hits by people who have Googled about losing their husband. I guess I'm not the only widow in the world after all. For a long time, it felt like it. It's such a dark, lonely feeling--a feeling I'm not sure I can describe. It's like having a limb amputated. You feel out of balance--lost, alone. You walk through life, going about your everyday business, but you're hemorrhaging inside. People talk to you, and you answer. But you aren't really sure of what's being said. It's an awful aloneness.

It's not like being divorced--I've done both. While I wasn't really married, I did live with someone for six years and then split up. That was hard. Everything of yours is intertwined with everything of theirs. But in the end, it's OK to call him a bastard for leaving you. When someone dies, if you said that, people would be horrified that you were speaking so ill of the dead--even though you are so pissed at him for leaving you. So, I've been thinking a lot about widowhood. It's not a fun place to be. But I'm recovering, slowly. I'm making new friends. I'm getting out more. And one day, maybe I'll be OK.

So my week ends well. "Crush" sighting this morning—although a piece of exercise equipment obstructed my view, it was still nice. OMG. He looks good.