Beat by 2 preggies & a broken arm.
I woke up today pretty glum and pissed off at the world. You know what? I kinda had the right.
In recap: I got sick after the 4th of July party and ended up going to a different doc for second opinion on the thyroid issues. She was surprised when I told her I had surgery in Dec. to remove the thyroid cancer but that they only took half of my thyroid, leaving the other half still in my body. I too, i have been wondering about this for quite some time. So now I’m at square 1 again w/ an ultrasound and bloodwork next week. I know the obvious next step will be the biopsy and then ___. – A word i won’t say.
I decided to do this since i have been constantly on the edge of sickness since the surgery and my one day of drinking and eating like a normal person was obviously enough to do my, already struggling, immune system in. I’ve been sick all week and still not up to par now. Is anyone else from the party sick? Nope, just me. I’m basically sick of battling this. Granted I’m light years away from just a couple months ago where i was exhausted and sleeping in bed for 12 – 14 hr stretches but i’m still sick of it. Dealing with the Hashicrapo’s (my name for it), the cancer and the hypothyroidism has to just end and I need to be normal again.
So, needless to say i’ve been a bit on edge knowing I’m now back at the start of a process I’m not keen of.
Then Randy and I broke up. Yippee Yeah, This Sucks. I love Randy but we have some core issues, which don’t belong on this blog, that can’t seem to be resolved. This is of course, complicated by the fact that we both live together, etc. There is a hope of reconcilliation but a LOT of things would need to change and I’m just not sure that we can both make the grade together. Pretty rough after 2.5 years together and a trip around the world (my saving grace for the past months) in the works.
Yeah, it’s been a crappy week.
However, this morning I was particularily anxious because I was scheduled for “boot camp”.
I’ve been working out with a trainer, since I got some of my energy back up a few weeks ago, to take off the 50+ lbs I’ve gained thru the thyroid mess (another lovely side effect on someone who is only 5′ tall and living in the land of the pretties which is southern california). My wonderful trainer, Jen, was out of town at the beginning of the week (which was good due to illness) and announced at Thursday’s session that I would be doing the boot camp on Saturday with about 7 other people and one of my best buddies, Lauren, who I regularly share sessions with.
The words literally stung my scalp, not unlike a bad dye job, and it actually made me dizzy. Much like the precise sip when you realize you’ve had just a bit too much to drink. Ick! Ick! No! No! No! I don’t want to do this! This sucks!
To be honest, I’m not a “group” person. I work out with her because I am self concious and don’t want to sweat it out with all the 100 pound cookies at the gym. I knew I was going to be the most out of shape, the slowest, weakest, (insert your comment here), of the bunch. I really did not want to do this. I wrestled with it in my mind and seriously tried to think of ways I could get out of it. Maybe I could play up the sick thing, maybe I had to take Chachy to the vet or maybe I slept thru my alarm – there had to be an out I could come up with for this.
This morning, around 8:30, I actually called Lauren and left a tearful mention that I would not be making it to “camp”. Inside I knew I would regret not going but I just couldn’t rally enough to get on board and be the person that makes everyone else feels better about themselves. Mind you, I also had a meltdown at Jen’s on Thursday when I was reduced to tears during the beginning of the session and just broke down in front of her, bawling, while attempting my side plank. How could I put myself in front of this many people with all this on my mind? I was in fits over it this morning yelling “I shouldn’t be this upset about something that I am paying for.”, etc., etc.
Somewhere inside though, I knew the pain worse than the skinny girls in cute shorts would be the sting of my own criticism. If I didn’t go, I would be really disappointed in myself. It was a feeling I couldn’t shake. I also summarized that if I got dirty glances or heard mumblings about how slow I was then I could simply yell back “I have cancer – f*** off, you f***ing f***!”. With that fool proof plan in my back pocket I dredged to the car and drove myself to what I was sure would be my demise or, at the very least, the worst possible way to start the weekend.
It was 2 hours of hell.
We started off by running hills and stairs – jesus! – the 2 things I hate the most! 20 flights (I did cheat a little shh..) and 2 huge hills later I was starting to feel ok with my role at the end of the pack. Throughout the whole session it was exactly what I thought it would be – I was the weakest, the slowest & the sweatiest. But unlike the drama I had played out in my mind for the past couple days no one said anything or really seemed to notice. hmm.
I beat myself up a bit on the hills and stairs when I realized that 2 of the women were very pregnant, about 5mos & 7 mos. They beat me. Oh yes, 2 heavily pregnant women beat me, yes they did. Then I realized I had also been left in a the dust by a woman with a broken arm who was sporting a hot pink cast as a testament to her surfing casualty. Yup, she beat me on everything as well, even the weights which is still hard to understand. I complimented her and told her she was strong – I couldn’t imagine lifting weights with a broken arm. Hell, I can hardly imagine it when I do it now.
I found out later, I was also the only one slow enough to notice the extremely used condom on the hill we were running. Since I was reduced to walking 1/2 way thru the 1st hill I had the eyes to notice it and still managed to step on it, nice.
Honestly, I had to smile at one point – the experience reminded me of when I ran the Honolulu Marathon for the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society, the year before I found I was sick. I was beat by everyone in 70 year old age range and also by the runners who ran in classic Asian Kimonos, including the large wooden sandals. I was happy then because I still finished the marathon, thanks to Team IN Training. When the workout was over today I was quite proud of myself again because after the sickness, the stress of the impending ultrasound/biopsy, the break up and the fact that I was left in the dirt by 2 pregnant women and 1 with an injury, at least I showed up.
Go me! 🙂