Friday, August 30, 2013

No I Havne't Fallen And Not Gotten Up

Some of you may be thinking that I really did fall and couldn't get up, because I appear to have disappeared around these parts.

I promise I'm still kickin, or I mean crutchin'.

Just in case any of you were worried.

I'm just running extra low on energy lately.

Remember how I feel about crutches?

I went back to work this week. Which has been good. I feel like I've returned to somewhat of a normal life, if we are defining somewhat normal as doing things at a snails pace and parking in handicapped parking spots.

Doctors orders were to start water walking at the pool on Monday. So I did. Which in itself has been hilarious. I go to the pool before work at 6 am, and guess who is at the pool at that hour?


You guessed it.

Old men.

Cute, extra friendly, average age of 78, swimming around in water belts and pumping their arms with water weights old men.

They of course want to know everything about this knee surgery I had and tell me every day before they leave, "Can't wait to see you tomorrow!"


I just have to laugh because a month ago I was working out with the fittest of fit twice a day, and now....well, you get the picture. I just keep reminding myself this is not forever and when I get back to where I was in a few months, I will be able to work even harder because I won't have to worry about my knee anymore. Now that is worth it!!!

I'm happy to report I stepped on the scale yesterday morning with this half-hazard one eye shut, one eye barely open act because I knew I needed to for my own sanity but I was terrified of what the number showing would say.

You see, my biggest fear in having this surgery was not the surgery itself, because I obviously couldn't have been in better hands, it was the recovery period of SIX MONTHS. I worked my butt off to lose 40 pounds before my last knee surgery (the recovery time frame of the last one was only about 4 weeks) and my weight loss came to a standstill after.  My thoughts were: if I'm not able to workout for SIX MONTHS, I could easily gain all that weight back and then some. So, if I'm being honest, I wasn't fearful, I was actually FREAKING OUT.

So, I stepped on the scale yesterday.

The same things were rushing through my head as when I did this on a weekly basis when I was working out.

Thoughts of regret: I shouldn't have ate that. I should have done this. I wish I would have worked harder at this. I wish I wouldn't have done that.

Positive thoughts: I did this well. I ate clean. I gave it my all. It's going to be fine.

Then the number shows up.

Quickly do the math of my pre-surgery weight....I've LOST 7.8 pounds!!!!!!!!!!

I was obviously excited considering how much homemade apple and peach pie sat around at my parents house when I was there for over two weeks. But at the same time, I have to be realistic in realizing that I've most likely lost 7.8 pounds of muscle mass since I currently am not using one of my legs. Muscle = higher metabolism = more calories get the picture, I want to lose fat, not muscle.

However, I can't help but notice the important lesson being reinforced to me again through this recovery process. 90% of my weight loss journey is about the food I chose to fuel my body with, and 10% is exercise.

Since coming home from surgery, I have been very careful about what food I've been choosing to put in my body, and I would have to be pretty ignorant to think that the 90/10 rule isn't coming in to play with at least a couple of those 7.8 pounds here.

In other news, the countdown is on...15 more days on crutches! I'm on the downhill slide, friends!!!! And you better watch out for my guns...they are getting BUFF!!!

Have yourself a fabulous Friday, ok?

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