Archives for the month of: February, 2012

Injured again!

It happened about a month ago, actually. I was reaching down for my purse in a restaurant and “ZIPPPP! Pingggg!”

It felt like someone was pulling hard on a long hair on the back of my upper arm. And it kept happening–this funny electrical buzz in my arm. Sharp. Insistent.

It was intermittent, this pain. I didn’t know when it would happen or what would cause it. But it hurt to run or jump or move my arm in just about any direction.

And then my fingers started going numb, so I went to the doctor.

Diagnosis? Tendinitis.

Wear an elbow brace. Ice it. Take ibuprofen. No upper body work for at least 7 days, and when you start, start slow.

As I said, it’s been a month, and it’s just starting to feel better. I’ve worked out a few times with my arms, and I’d love to start going heavier, but I’m scared of further injury. Am I injury prone, or doing something wrong?


It seems like right about now–six weeks into the year or so–we hear from lots of people that they’re cheating on their diet. How they did really badly this week. They might as well not bother, since they gained. Why waste money on Weight Watchers, since they’re not doing it any more? Why go to the gym, since they’re off their diet? And then, ultimately, they failed.

And they lament how well they did at the beginning. “I did everything right!” I tracked everything. I prepared all my meals on Sunday. I  worked out every day. I never used any of my extra Weight Watchers PointsPlus (my Weeklies, my Activity Points). I didn’t eat anything “bad.”

And then, Weight Watchers stopped working.

But of course it didn’t.

Life got real.

Losing weight is like marriage. First you have the honeymoon, where everything is exciting and new and fun. You track. You measure. You log your activity points. And you’re excited to see the big weight losses.

Eventually, as time wears on, there’s a familiarity that sets in. You get comfy in your sweats more often. You don’t feel the need to go out together all the time. You fall asleep before you can say goodnight.

Same goes for the weight loss journey. You take the tracking, measuring and activity for granted. And when the weight loss slows down, or reverses, many people don’t work through it to get back on track, but give up.

Don’t give up this time. So what if it takes a year, or two, or in my case, three to get to your goal? When you get there, you’ll have changed a lot of habits, and you’ll be much more likely to maintain–and live happily ever after.

Last week my husband and I met a woman who I found to be quite attractive. Later that night when we were home I mentioned how pretty she was.

My husband looked at me like I was crazy. “Her? She’s not pretty. Why would you say that?”

I didn’t understand why he didn’t think she was pretty. She was youthful, thin, and was good looking. Wasn’t she?

No, she wasn’t, he told me. She wasn’t ugly, but she wasn’t good looking. She was an average woman, neither pretty nor exotic, nor ugly or homely. A Plain Jane.

I didn’t understand it. How could she find her to be average? She was probably a size four. She’ s a runner. Of course she’s attractive.

It was only when I was driving home today, still musing over how wrong he was, that I finally understood the truth: I have been equating body size/shape with beauty.

She’s thin, therefore she’s beautiful.

I’m fat, therefore I’m ugly.

Only recently have I started to feel good looking even though I’m still very much officially fat. Only recently have I accepted compliments of “Wow, you look great” with a reply of “Thank you, that’s nice of you to say” instead of negating it. Only recently have I started to accept something completely new:

I’m strong, therefore I’m awesome.