It is Wednesday and it feels like Friday … actually no, it feels like I should be somewhere in November and not the 3rd day of February due to the exhaustion I feel. I am literally running on fumes and I have no fucking idea why.
Yesterday I obediently trotted off to the “experts” my doctor had recommended. Now that is in parenthesis because I tried those a number of years before and a toddler could have given me better advice. So I was a little (no a LOT) skeptical and cynical. The physiologist (just a fancy name for a PT trainer) did not tell me anything I didn’t know. But she did manage to bamboozle me into a group training session … I am still not sure how that happened but it did. The dietician (oh thank you diabetes for assuming I do not know how to eat healthy) was down to earth and was not interested in my losing weight as much as just decreasing my girth. I have no BMI magic number to follow and they both said this will take time, so no magic this all goes away in 3 months. So a little less cynical this time around.
I loathe exercise. I have no “happy” endorphins. Just nausea and feeling like shit. So let me set the scene – which will be my reality next Saturday. I hate exercise. I hate form fitting clothes as they show every bump and crevice – so track pants are ONLY ever worn inside where no one will see me. I hate running out of air after the smallest amount of exertion and having a face so red it could be used as a traffic signal. I hate feeling like I am the one being watched. And I am going to go to a group exercise at 930am on a Saturday morning and jiggle and wiggle and feel like a complete idiot.
I know no one is really watching and paying attention – except for the cute instructor with the washboard abs and gorgeous tan and smile! You know the one you’d happily do a tango with irrespective of gender. And since I like both genders this can be problematic. Saturday is going to be a lesson in me trying to switch off my head and pretend I am the only person in class. I was told I could pick a class and her suggestion just made me want to disappear. I am so not going to go to a class where all I can think about is eating and drinking all sorts of goodies off the flat washboard that makes up her suggestion (yes he was in the room at the time, I take no responsibility for my mind wandering when faced with conversations that are confronting).
This will be good for me in the long run, I know this. I just don’t have to be happy about it. Of course all of this is highlighted by the fact that the results of tests I had done 1.5 weeks ago are still not with my doctor. Hopefully some idiot has just forgotten to pass them on cause it should have been there by now. Those are important tests and will determine a few things. The receptionist told me to call daily to check the status of those. So one more task added to the to-do list.
Are we done yet – just with the week? Or can I have a do-over where I have more energy? Sigh.