Monday, May 30, 2011

Someone chase me

So...I've always been part of the "don't run unless being chased" group. Actually, let me restate that. I've always been part of the don't MOVE unless being chased group. I mean, ask anyone who knows me...I would send my cat to go get my drinks if the lazy things would oblige.

As I mentioned in my earlier blog post, on July 17th I will be doing 13.1 miles for Crohn's.
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For the most part, I joined up with this and committed to this without thinking. I kind of was like, pshaw. 13.1 miles? What's the big deal? I'm sure it will be fine. And now, as I've gotten up to 6 miles, I'm sitting here going 13.1 miles? WHAT IN THE NAME OF ALL THAT IS HOLY WERE YOU THINKING???!!!
Actually, I would have more exclamation points at the end of that sentence but I'm far too exhausted from the 6 miles.

As the day gets closer, I'm realizing that I'm scared. I will do this. I know I will. And when I cross the finish line, I will cry with accomplishment before falling on my face and having to be dragged off the course by the paramedics.
But, for right now, I have all these thoughts in my head. In clinical crazy town terms, we call this Holy Shit What The F*** A Half Marathon? (Otherwise known as HSWTFAHF, you may be more familiar with it that way).

My fears are:
What if I don't finish?
What if both my kneecaps fall off?
What if I'm the last person to finish?
What if I fall down and pass out? (This will be remedied by pinning a note to my shirt that says take me to the nearest margarita and I will be fine).
What if I don't finish?
Did I mention what if I don't finish?
I can't decide what is worse for me...not finishing or being the last person to finish. It might be a tie.

Well, while I face my fears, while trying to have a heart to heart with my spazing leg muscles, I'll just ask for you to say a short prayer for my kneecaps. And maybe the rest of me.

A picture is worth a thousand words

So...I just finished my "don't call it a come back" post when I was thinking, maybe I should look through some old pictures.
I keep saying how I can't see the difference from 65 lbs ago. When I look at the full length picture I took the day before surgery I really honestly and truly go "Do I look any different?". (Look, I already admitted I was crazy town, ok?)

But then I looked at a couple close ups of my face and I can really see a difference. So maybe that makes me SLIGHTLY less crazy?


And After:

Don't turn out the lights.....

I let my blog go dark. It wasn't intentional. It just happened.

I'm trying to get back in the swing of things now though. Let's see...since the last time I wrote I've only lost about 7 lbs. It's been slow going, which is hard for me to accept.
The weight fell off so quickly at the beginning that I didn't even have to think about it. I just got another fill last Monday. I think I have close to 5 cc's in my band now. I still don't feel like I've hit the "sweet spot" everyone talks about.
I still have that emotional piece swimming around in my head and at this point I don't feel like it will ever get better. I met up with a friend who I hadn't seen in about a month to go to a concert this past week and she said "Look at you skinny". And I thought "Who could she POSSIBLY be talking to"?? There are times that I catch a quick glimpse of myself in the mirror and there is a fleeting thought about how thin I am looking. But it's gone fairly quickly. Because, then, when I see pictures of myself, I see how far I have to go.

I don't know how or when the crazy took residence in my head, but I don't think it's going anywhere anytime soon. If I've lost 65 lbs and still can't see how far I've come? Still can't see a difference from 65 lbs ago? There's something seriously wrong with me and I don't know how to fix it.

In other news, I'm still training with Team Challenge WI for my half marathon. I have about a month and a half left, and I feel like I really need to ramp up my training. In addition, my wedding is in 5 months and I am really scared of seeing those pictures as I look today.