Motivation, Pride and...Stupid Accidents

After experiencing the rather desperate search for a solution to my apparent "weight-loss resistance" that accompanies hypothyroidism*, I had an epiphany, just yesterday, sitting at the library. I guess I had been hoping that one last 3-day cleanse, 2 more weeks without wine or chocolate, protein drinks and nothing else until dinner would be the magic ticket, the end to my extra pounds. I do know better. I don't believe in dieting, I believe in food, I love food. So, anyway, while skimming over an article in, of all places, French Vogue, (it was in French and I had a free moment), I had one of those run-ins with enlightenment. 
The topic of the entire issue of Vogue: what it takes to get and stay in good shape, not the skin and bones model kind, but the real, during, healthy and sane kind of shape. I realized that my cleanses were not crazy moments of wishful thinking, that staying away from sugar, gluten and potato chips will need to be a permanent part of my life, and that running, this incredibly hard endeavor for me, is good, a great place to start. I had even come to see the value of perspiration, for Pete's sake.

I wrote a few weeks back about my new running discovery. I am one of the world's least athletic individuals. After sitting on the bench for 2 seasons of junior high volley ball and falling on my tush in a basketball game in 8th grade, I gave up sports as an activity for the coordinated. Me? I swam, I walked, I discovered yoga, all nice, low-impact sorts of activities. Running hurt and sweating was no fun. Besides, I have back problems, and weak ankles and bad knees, my hips hurt at night...I allowed the list to go on forever. Five babies and increasingly difficult pregnancies led me to believe I was just not made for any challenging sports.

I have been running for almost 2 months. I love it, I love the feeling of accomplishment at the very beginning of the day. And now I am happy about it. It has been the hottest summer on record since 1988, miserable, humid heat, with temperatures frequently in the 100's. Yet, Lily and I persist and run almost every day. We are strong and courageous, (or at least I pretend to be with my daughter running easily beside me), putting mind over matter to triumphantly make it all the way home one more time.

And then a chair leg came out of nowhere a few hours ago. Really, I don't know what it thought it was doing in the path of my bare pinky toe, such cheek. And I was brought down. By a toe. Completely dumb. The blackening, stuck out at an angle, swollen mess of my formerly elegant little toe, painted a pretty red, is pathetic. It hurts, yeah, whatever, but it may mean, above all, that my running will have to be put on hold until it heals. I could howl with frustration and rage. Whereas, in times past, a twisted ankle or broken lower limb had its appeal in that it would equal more knitting time, now it only means that I may not be able to run. Or maybe I will...a google search, really the best way to get medical advice, don't you think? has revealed that some runners are up and running again two days after breaking a toe. Others take weeks to heal. I think I will cross my fingers, aim for something closer to the former and knit something splendid.

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*A word about the hypothyroidism: it could take up a book by itself! It is a bummer, and combined with a certain age factor, (to which I have no intention of admitting, don't even try to make me), it can seriously slow down your metabolism. The condition has made me very tired. It has become harder and harder to get up early in the morning, which is my favorite time of day. Naps became something that threatened to happen when I sat down to read to my children at 9am, hours before my old noon sleepiness. I have learned to read aloud while pacing the floor. My sluggish metabolism has also contributed to the extra 20lbs.I have gained over the past two years. While eating the way I used to consider "normal", I have continued to gain weight. When I began to be very careful in my eating habits, the weight gain slowed, but I stubbornly remained at what I would have weighed seven months pregnant. Thus the term "weight-loss resistance". In order to actually loose weight, I have had to resort to the strictest sort dietary restrictions. I have returned to what is known as the Paleo diet, because the complete lack of grains also helps with my eczema. I have also become more active, every day, despite the heat (I have to say this, it would not be remarkable in any other season, summer is a special time for me; blah.)