I have gone through many stages in my life when I realize that something's gotta change.
Sometimes, it's just my attitude, as in: I am being overly dramatic or overly pessimistic or overly pissy.
Sometimes, it's been my weight, like after I had the boys and I felt so trapped inside that swollen, slow, puffy body that I knew I had to make it my focus.
Sometimes, it's even been the people I associate with: a spouse who made me miserable, a friend who made me crazy.
It's simpler when the problem is easy to identify and the solution within your control. When you are attacked by falling hangers every time you try to pull a shirt out of your closet (true story), you know what you gotta do. A couple of hours and some minor effort later, the problem has been solved. But usually, life isn't that easy. You don't always know what the problem is, or whether it's within your control at all. Sometimes, the problem isn't even a problem; sometimes it could just be a string of bad luck. I'm not sure which of these applies to me right now, but I know I function better when I at least think I'm trying to do something about it. So I am.
The problem these days is my body. For a change, it's not about fitting into that perfect size 4 in the back of my closet. It's not about losing the stubborn pooch that came along with my two boys and likes to masquerade as a Shar-Pei when I bend over. It's not even about my thighs.
It's about my health.
I'm not sure what's going on lately, but my body's been complaining. And they say that if you listen really carefully, your body will let you know what it needs. Well, my body definitely needs something.
Over the last year, I've had several colds/bugs/viruses/under-the-weather-spells. I've been diagnosed with GERD, exercise-induced asthma, acute bronchitis, and a rib head disarticulation. (Yeah, I didn't know what it was either, but it hurts like hell.) I've had liquid drained from my good knee. I've had three sinus infections and three corneal abrasions. Throw into the mix my chronic migraines, and it's been a stellar year, health-wise.
And this week? Recovering from hand, foot, and mouth disease. (Remember my post about how I was absolutely, definitely not getting strep? Well, I didn't. Instead, I got this.) "Adults don't usually get hand, foot, and mouth." "It's a children's virus." "If you get it as an adult, it's super mild." That's what I was told. But you know me. I got it BIG TIME. And if you don't know anything about this virus, let's just say it's super fun. As in, your closest friends literally cringe when you touch them. (It's okay, M, I would have cringed too.)
I realize that I have two small kids who bring everything home from pre-k and kindergarten. I realize that both Hubby and I are elementary school teachers who bring everything else home. I realize that we lead very hectic lives and run around a lot. And I also know that in the grand scheme of things, none of this stuff is a big deal and I really am lucky and blessed and healthy. But I've gotta try to make things a little better...help my body do its thing somehow. So the question is how? What's gotta change?
Well, for starters, Hubby pointed out that, lately, we've been spending a whole more money on beer than on vitamins. And my four-day-per-week-minimums at the gym have turned into twice if I'm lucky. Fish and salads for dinner have been swapped for dinosaur-shaped chicken nuggets and frozen pizzas. We've gone from a very healthy lifestyle to "What's the quickest thing we can throw in the microwave and does it go well with my Belgium lager?"
Even Hubby, who was sick--literally--like twice in the first 11 years we've been together, has been sick four times in the past year.
So what to do? I need a plan of action. I am an anal, Type A, list-making kinda girl.
Well, for one thing: cut back on the booze.
Go back to the runs, the bike rides, the gym visits. Make that a priority.
Pull out the yoga gift certificate I've had in my purse for 6 months.
Stop being so cheap and buy some good supplements again.
Buy more fish.
Become obsessive-compulsive about all things Dr. Oz.
Maybe none of this will make a damn difference. Maybe next week, I'll develop some other random, annoying, cringe-worthy virus. But at least I'll get a false sense of control over my circumstances. Even that's gotta be healthier than how I've been feeling lately. Then maybe I can start obsessing unhealthily about my thighs again.