Tag Archives: food plan

Keeping All My Balls In The Air

In the here & now, ,

Well despite the eye-bags, which by the way seem to have taken up permanent residence and have become a mini obsession, I pretty much survived my first week back at work. I can’t even tell you how glad I am to see the weekend though, I’m knackered. Actually now I think about it, that might account for my puffy eyes, but whatever the root cause is, I’m not taking this overnight ageing malarkey lying down.

The miracle face mask hasn’t arrived yet, but as I write this I have some under-eye gel pads doing their thing, and there are at least three pots of eye cream lined up for when these bad boys come off. I’m surprised I didn’t slide out of bed, I was that greased-up when I went to sleep last night.

I think my whole regime needs a bit of an overhaul to be honest. I’m on fairly solid ground now with the food side of things, but as I was busy patting myself on the back for reaching ten days of food sobriety I started reflecting on everything else I know I should be doing, and realised that I’m dropping balls left right and centre.  I’ve relapsed with my water intake again and although I’m getting a fair bit of exercise in, I’m definitely not getting enough sleep.

It’s not the first time that I’ve narrowed my focus to the point that I’ve seen the world through tunnel vision. It’s kind of the way I’m wired, you know? I get so focused on the job in hand that shit can be flying around my ears and I just don’t see it. Over the last couple of weeks I’ve been so focused on calories in and calories out, I’ve forgotten all about a bunch of other stuff, including staying hydrated.

Now, sometimes it’s okay to target one hundred percent of the available effort on one thing. It’s a bit like a laser beam, right? It’s specific and intense and accurate. And it gets the job done although it’ll burn you if you leave it switched on too long. I really needed that intense light shining on my food plan because I was out of control, and it’s worked in so much as I’ve wrestled control back and I’m feeling calmer. But now my body’s thirsty.

Which, according to Doctor Google, can cause all manner of havoc, including giving me puffy eyes…well, go figure. I pounced on that nugget of information immediately and today’s two litre minimum is already measured out and waiting for me.

I also stayed away from home on Wednesday evening, so I could have dinner with a friend of mine and wake up nearer to where I needed to be for some meetings yesterday morning. As I opened my toilet bag, out fell my little packet of Thyroxine pills, which I take for my underactive thyroid. Whoops. I packed them when I went into hospital for my surgery and haven’t thought about them since, because they were tucked out of sight.

Which might account for me being so tired.

Ya think???

What a dumbass. I’d be the first to admit I’m often guilty of not fitting in enough sleep but I stack the odds of being knackered even higher when I take away the only thing that drives my metabolism. Add that to the fact that I’ve been trying to squeeze  in around an hour of swimming every day as well as building up my walking, doing my physio, pulling all the stuff together for this writer’s workshop next week and easing myself back into work, not to mention running around after my mum…there’s no fucking wonder I’ve got bags under my eyes, right?

So. Food plan, check. Water, check. Exercise, check. Pills, check. It’s practically the weekend…time to relax. Catch up on some sleep. Get my shit together.

I’m on it! 🙂

 

 

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Just A Bit Too Cocky

In the here & now, ,

I’ve had some lovely notes and messages relating to my knee surgery, which were much appreciated, thank you. It all went well, and I was home by mid-afternoon on the same day. It’s sore, but it’s not unbearable. I think I’ve been battered by the anaesthetic as much as anything, because in between all the knee exercises that the physiotherapist has given me to do I’m sleeping more than a middle-aged moggy. I guess that’ll wear off in a few days.

My friend came over yesterday evening and we decided to go see a movie – that was the point that I realised that perhaps I’d overestimated my ability to bounce back. Pottering around the house is one thing, but the car journey to the cinema was uncomfortable and although we parked right outside and didn’t really walk very far at all, by the time I got home last night I was exhausted. And my knee hurt. A lot. So no matter how bad the cabin fever gets, I won’t be doing that again any time soon.

The doctor raised an eyebrow at me on Friday when I said I was planning to go back to work in a couple of days…sometimes I can be a bit too cocky for my own good, you know? Lesson learned. I’ve assumed the position again with my leg elevated, where it will remain until the swelling goes down, and I guess I’ll be sending in that sick note after all.

I’ll tell you what though, just cast your mind back a couple of years. I couldn’t wait to lay back every weekend with my feet up in my big fat leather armchair and do nothing at all. Well, except feed my face. It’s almost worth being driven crazy with cabin fever as a reminder of how far I’ve come. That life doesn’t belong to me any more, which is why I reckon I’m finding the inactivity so hard.

These days, weekends are about getting out in the fresh air and walking with Charlie dog or setting off with a bunch of friends on my bike, not hunkering down with an armful of snacks and a steady stream of crappy TV. Hopefully it’ll only be a couple of weeks until I’m properly mobile again. I’m not sure how much more of the doggy death-stare I can take, for one thing.

My encounter with the Shitbird didn’t go too well yesterday. Again. I was in two minds whether to bother hopping aboard at all given that I’m wrapped from thigh to ankle in a massive padded bandage, but on the basis that I didn’t properly climb out of the sink hole until Friday, I figured bandage or no bandage I had to face the number. It wasn’t pretty, but I’m happy to report that the anarchy is over and I’m properly back up and running with my food plan.

Not before time. That twelve day fuck-up has put me back to what I weighed on 19th March. For fuck’s sake. Five months’ worth of effort wiped out in less than two weeks. Next time I’m in the mood to rebel I’m going to remind myself about that 🙂

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