Exercise? Or be exorcised?

I thought I had been on a wild ride for the last year and a half, and now I'm desperately searching for the surrender flag.

Coming soon I'll tell my whole story of where I'm coming from, and where I'd like to be going. But for now, the last few days have driven me to inches of my sanity. I had said, I'm going to give Weight Watchers the old college try for a full month before saying "It doesn't work" and move on to something else. Okay, when I can manage to stay on plan, it does work. But my problems are several:

• It's the time of year when barbecues and other events are going to be many. Those do not fit well.
• When I have no control over what I'm preparing, I could be facing anything, and then I have to guesstimate my points.
• I get hungry. A lot.
• Events. Events. And more events.
• They buy us food a lot at work, and none of it fits my points.
• Did I mention it's events season?

It seems as though every weekend, there's something going. It's someone's birthday, it was father's day, there's another birthday, it was my daughter's birthday. Every. Weekend. In the grand scheme, I did lose a couple of pounds. But then something happens, I fall off plan, and now I'm right back to where I started. I had a couple days stretch last week where I was doing everything right: My points were bang on the dot, I lifted heavy, and I ran.

Oh, out of nowhere, my calf injury is gone. Never had an explanation for what caused it, or how I made it go away. But I attempted the Corporate Challenge and felt like the damn thing was going to tear again, gave up running and lifted only, with just running as a cool down (still with pain), and then two weeks later ran a half mile straight without so much as a twinge. Not sure why, not going to question it.

The damn scale won't budge. I did everything right and still gained. Muscle you might say. It's denser than fat. (None of this muscle weighs more nonsense, a pound is a pound. But a pound of muscle takes up less space than a pound of fat. Thank you for coming to my TED Talk.) 

Not so fast now. The tape measure hasn't budged either, and neither has the way my clothes fit changed.

This lead me to my first meltdown of the week, around Wednesday-ish. Poor Jon, he must have a soggy shoulder by now from me crying on it. He suggested, why don't we call my doctor and have blood work done to see if there's an underlying issue. That's probably the only thing I haven't tried yet. Not so fast, again. I have to pay up to my $1000 deductible plus 10% coinsurance to get labs drawn. Not worth it when I might not even find out anything! I got so upset that I didn't feel like working out. I asked myself, what's the point? Usually it reinvigorates me to go harder but this time, the Phoenix felt broken. I felt nothing. Just, apathy. Why fight so hard for nothing?

The right song came on my playlist that day and snapped me out of it. (Cheap Thrills will snap me pretty quickly out of it, or Havana is a good backup.) Thursday I took a half day to spend with my daughter for her birthday. Friday things seemed like they were back on track, and then it all blew up. To protect privacy from here I am not going to elaborate on things, but something happened at my daughter's 2 year appointment that made what should have been an hour in and out into a 3 hour ordeal that we're waiting on results for. I had pushed my Wednesday workout to Thursday and didn't have time, so it pushed to Friday and then I was so emotionally drained that I just couldn't. Saturday came and I did make my return to Zumba, but my lifting got pushed again to Sunday. Well, everything blew up again on Saturday. I will not elaborate on what happened, or to who, but it was VERY serious. Now I'm COMPLETELY emotionally shot, and my house is full of leftover cake, burgers, and potato salad. I need complete deliverance.

I arrived at the office today knowing that the Saturday situation was improving. Still waiting to hear about my daughter, but hers isn't as serious. But I was going to get back on the beam today and I noticed, I'm 2 full workouts behind now. And, I forgot my phone. So I can't take my plan with me to the gym. It's a beautiful day, why don't I run, and I'll just pick up my lifting on Wednesday like nothing happened. Cool.

My breathing is not terribly behind, my calf feels great. No music but I'm going for it. And then? I'm heading up the final stretch towards work and I hear someone talk-shouting behind me. I couldn't hear what he was saying, didn't know if he was talking on the phone or shouting at me but I ignored him. Still, it scared me. I turned down the side road to work and while my run intervals were over I decided to add another one. At that point, I tripped over a spot in the sidewalk that was a bit uneven, executed a perfect tuck and roll (thank you Tae Kwon Do) and popped back up with just a scrape on my elbow. I hightailed my rear end back to the office, and now am hiding in my little hole in the wall.

Whoever put this jinx on me, kindly remove it, please! The phoenix is tired of feeling the flames.

Googling Symptoms is Never Wise

I can't believe this is how my blog is beginning. It is certainly not what I had in mind. But, here we are.

I am injured. I've had some fun injury stories through my life: jumped/fell out of my dad's truck, fell of the side of the pool deck, slipped on ice, tripped over a foot at Zumba, tripped on a weight, caught my baby toe on the corner of the wall. THAT one was fun! This time? Complete mystery.

Now normally I love a good mystery. Just 10 days ago I was telling Jon one of the reasons I love Venice so much is that it's a big labyrinth and finding your way through the twisting alleys, canals, and bridges is one big mystery. I was always the kid playing with puzzles, reading mystery novels, solving brain teasers. I LOVE a good mystery. But when it comes to my health and fitness journey, not so much!

It started innocently enough. Last week on my run I felt some tightness in my right calf. Not really painful, but enough to be annoying. Saturday at Zumba it was back. Again not really painful, but enough to annoy. By the end of class it was bad enough that I was ready to say uncle. But as soon as I was done, it went back to feeling fine.

Yesterday I went for my run, and it started feeling tight. I thought maybe I was trying to push too fast, so I slowed down. Sometimes if I walk too fast on my intervals that'll cause some tightness. Not a big deal. I texted Jon that I was having an issue, and maybe I'd enlist a massage later. No sooner did I hit send and resume running when, it happened. My leg muscle felt so tight it was as though something would have torn if I'd tried to keep running. I collapsed in pain. I sat there on the sidewalk, right in front of MCC, lunch time traffic zooming right along (and horns blaring at the runner on the ground) trying to stretch and massage it as best I could. I got back up and finished a good calf stretch, and tried to resume. Nope. My body was completely done. I sobbed as I dragged myself back to the office, and the sobs turned into a full on meltdown as I got dressed.

What has happened? How long will it last? How long am I out for? Will this completely undo all the progress I've been making with my breathing? Ever since I was a kid, I've felt like there's something wrong when I run. I can't breathe like a normal person. It feels like I'm inhaling through a straw. In college I was diagnosed with sports induced asthma, based solely on symptoms and not on any tests, and sent on my way with an Albuterol. I've tried other inhalers with little to no relief. Intal, Symbicort, Advair, Flovent. Nebulizers. Nothing helps. Finally I came upon an article in Women's Running Magazine about a condition that's often confused with asthma: Vocal Cord Dysfunction. The symptoms are an exact match: Trouble breathing IN rather than OUT, throat pain when confronted with a trigger, inhalers don't work. I was referred to an allergist who specializes in VCD and while an endoscope would be required to confirm diagnosis, I was given a tentative confirmation based on symptoms and sent to a speech and language pathologist for treatment. Right around this time, Jesse took his final turn for the worst. My priorities shifted in a major way, and I never followed up.

Through the years I've found that the only treatment for whatever it is that's wrong with me that actually works, is consistent, vigorous exercise. When I trained for my first marathon I could go for 13 miles without stopping for anything but water. I realized during that time that it wasn't my lungs that were bothering me, but my brain telling me that they should be, and was able to keep going. The longer I'm out, however, the worse my conditioning gets. That brings me back to my current fears.

This round of trying to get back into shape has been the hardest yet. I don't know if it's age, the fact I've had a baby, emotional distress, or some combination of the above, but I just can't get my lungs to play nice. I'm only just getting to the point where I can run for 3 lousy minutes without feeling like I'm dying and now? Back on my bottom, and who knows for how long?

Of course the first thing I did was the worst thing you can do. I went to Dr. Google. The first thing that came up besides the obvious muscle strain was a DVT blood clot. Um, well? That's plausible. Jon and I did just spend the better part of a full day on an airplane. Sitting. I was wearing compression socks but I know that's not a guarantee to prevent the clots. So I worried, checked my skin (it looks normal), and Googled what do I do about it. Well, other than going for ultrasounds (probably an unnecessary expense right now) keep moving and hydrate. Today, the pain and stiffness has expanded to the upper part of my leg and a little bit on my left, too. So back to Dr. Google. What do I find other than again, the obvious overuse, but MS.

Okay now we're reaching a bit here.

Finally I came back to the obvious, and what most likely has happened. Let's reexamine overuse. I thought to myself, I've just restarted at the beginning of couch to 5k, AGAIN, so there's NO WAY it could be overuse, or increasing mileage too quickly. Right?

Wrong again there, kiddo!

Jon and I were just in Italy. I wear my Garmin faithfully of course, so I have a good record of my steps. EVERY DAY we walked no less than 5 miles. Two days we were over 10. I'm used to 2-3 miles at best, now suddenly 5-10? Now I want to come home and run, and Zumba? I think we've got a winner here, folks!

So now here I am, aching to get out and run, and knowing it'll ache even more if I do. Here's where I need a plan!

1. Focus on nutrition. And we're going back to basics! Whole fruit, whole vegetables (limiting potatoes and sweet potato), meat, whole milk dairy (because you will never take my cheese from me), spices, and water. NO WHITE SUGAR!
2. Meal planning. I will create my plan for breakfast and lunch on Saturdays, then spend Sunday preparing. Eva's big enough to start being able to help, and occupy herself otherwise, so I can do this. No more getting caught with nothing to bring and eating out multiple times a week. ONLY on Quimby's night, or Friday lunch when Jon and I usually go out.
3. Exercise. Okay, here's where things get tricky. Walk when I'm able. Stretching multiple times a day. For cardio, my choices are rowing machine, recumbent bike, and the pool. The pool is horribly underrated! If I get myself a swim cap there's no reason I can't pop down to the JCC and swim a few laps on my lunch. And it's an amazing burn! This will be 3x a week. 
4. For strength, I will ask the personal training staff at the JCC for what I can do without aggravating the leg. NO CALF RAISES, and probably no battle rope for a while. Plain old lifting. Damn.
5. Self-myofascial release. This is dynamic stretching and self-massage. I have a foam roller, and bought a set of those calf sleeves you get in the hospital if you're bed bound for a while. I love those things. 

I allowed myself a pity party yesterday. Every time I make a good start at getting back into this something happens. I was certain, this is the time. My half marathon in September WILL be under 3 hours. It's not too late still for me to make that goal happen, but I am not happy about another setback. But in my usual Type A way, after I finished my pity party, I made a plan.

It's going to be an interesting ride. Welcome aboard my journey back to Phoenix Fit.