Good afternoon everyone!
Today I want to talk about my life before my back injury.
I used to go to the gym 5-7 days a week for at least an hour. I loved my gym. Working out made me sane. I felt like I wasn’t “crazy.” I had an outlet for my extra energy.
Fast forward to January ’16 and my doctor tells me that I can’t go to the gym anymore. My heart was broken. I turned to food to comfort me. Since then, I have gained 25lbs. I am even more depressed and anxious than I was before.
I don’t know why I didn’t dawn on me until this morning that my lack of physical activity is why my illness is getting worse. I can walk right now but I can’t walk from my house to anywhere. I live on a slanted road and slanted roads are a no-no according to my surgeon. I have been hitting 3,000+ steps according to my Fitbit. But before I used to hit 15k+.
Its a very weird feeling for me not going to the gym everyday.
I love fitness. I love running. I love lifting weights. Which is weird for people to hear me say. I know none of you know me or know what I look like, but let me try and paint a picture…
I’m 5’6″, 250+lbs, I carry most of my weight in my belly, I have a “high-butt” which really just makes my butt look like its broken up into two parts- high and low. I have fatty upper arms. Basically other than my arms and my gut, I am not “fat.” I am a healthy though. Which is something else that shocks people when I say that.
Of course I love my bad snacks; Lays, Twizzlers, and Reese’s just to name a few. But I rarely drink soda, most of my meals include fruits and veggies, water is my favorite drink (ok and coffee), I eat lean meats and like no red meat.
Sometime in January, I woke up one morning in serious pain. Because I had herniated discs before, I knew what it was so it was another 2 months before I went to see my doctor. Basically from there I got 4 cortisone injections before they realized that surgery was my only option. When I saw my doctor in January, she told me that I had to stop going to the gym. It broke my f-ing heart.
OK, there is a moral to this story…
The photo attached to this post has been something that’s motivated me for a few years now. I want to (once I’m recovered and healed) to get back to my working out and be someone that people look up to for motivation. That’s my goal. That’s what gets me out of bed in the morning. I want to do something with my life that people look up to me for.
Sorry for kind of a rambling post, M and I were having so much fun last night chasing each other, play fighting and tickling each other that I was hurting today. So I took a Norco (something I hadn’t done in like a week) so I’m really “high” right now.
OK, time to keep packing up the house. I’m also meeting up with someone to sell something from Letgo and then my parents are coming over for dinner and we’re gonna pack up my kitchen.