As summer begins to sundown into autumn, I’ve been thinking about this Chuck Palahniuk quote frequently as of late, with good reason. Way, way back in May — before #anklegate — I was preparing my training plan for the Akron Half Marathon. Then, of course, I broke my ankle and that put that particular race out of the running (pun intended).
But that’s okay, because that same weekend is the National Book Festival in Washington, D.C. and this year, Stephen King is the headliner. If you know me, you know I lurve me some Stephen King so while I couldn’t travel to Akron to run that particular weekend in September, BC and I started making plans to travel to our nation’s capitol to share in some book love and to visit my sis and BIL. Because of Clotapocolypse it was going to require a slight adjustment to our travel plans — like instead of being able to drive straight there we’d have to stop every hour or so because I need to get out and walk around — but that’s okay, just part of the new normal.
But then a couple of weeks ago BC tore his patella tendon and had to have surgery. He’s housebound for the next six weeks, at least, and with the National Book Festival only two weeks away that means our D.C. trip is going to have to be rescheduled.
It kills me, really, the timing of this. Just as I’m starting to reach the end of my own injury, we have this happen. He’s looking at six weeks of this followed by three to four months of physical therapy. At breakfast the other day we were doing the math and we’re pretty sure our first year of living together is going to be comprised of ten months of at least one of us dealing with an injury, with only the first and last month being injury free.
Naturally, all of this is making me super anxious which is making me eat and I’m having a bit of an existential crisis inside my head.
Two months ago I ditched dieting and in the beginning was doing okay with intuitive eating and choosing healthy, nutritious options but then I had the blood clot and they put me on a blood thinner with dietary restrictions, which meant I couldn’t eat greens for several weeks while we waited for my INR levels to raise. My diet was pretty bad those couple of weeks and because of various doctor’s appointments, I know my weight was up slightly which I wasn’t crazy about.
Now I can eat greens again without worrying about their effect on my medication and I finally finally feel like I’m in a place where I can really focus on listening to my body again and to let it guide me. But with everything going on, all of these things outside of my control, my anxiety is heightened and I find myself wanting to weigh myself just to know. Not that it will make much difference either way and I know myself well enough to know that if I do step on that scale and see a number I don’t like, it will only increase my anxiety and bad feelings and I definitely don’t want to do that because then I won’t eat intuitively, I’ll eat emotionally.
But my weight is something, maybe the only thing, within my control during all of this craziness. But starting that cycle over of dieting and restriction and daily weigh-ins and all of it — that’s super damaging for my mentally and emotionally, I know that now.
I just, I feel kind of stuck.
Love from the ashes,