I've been trying to figure out why I never see any shrinkage in the old bod, even though I've been working at it for nearly two years. I've been doing the cardio, strength training, improving food, drinking lots of water, and the pounds are not melting away. Neither are the inches.
Because I love to run, when it isn't sheer pain, my weight is a problem. Oh, never mind the fact that I keep getting told that no one is ever going to love me because I'm fat. Oh yeah, I have heard that a lot. i heard it even when I was under 120 pounds and a real skinny chick. Now that I'm older, however, if I even smell a hint of a man being critical of my shape, I have to assume its because he wants to forever ruin any chance he might have had with me.
So there. If he's not part of the solution, he's very well part of the problem.
It's hampering my efforts to keep running, because my shin splints keep coming back. I want to run. It's that simple. I don't want my running to be a struggle. I want to be able to run long distances without constant injury. I want to be strong and healthy.
I figure that if I'm doomed to spend the second half of my life as alone as I spent the first half, I might as well do something that I can enjoy in my solitude. What the hell, right? I'd love someone to run with me, but nobody is exactly lining up to go with me. I'm going to have to risk the streets alone, so if you hear that I was found dead from being run over, somewhere mangled in a ditch, that's why.
So the weight that won't go no matter what I do is plaguing my legs. I run until I'm injured because nothing else really works.
A couple of nights ago I realized that my sleep pattern (or lack thereof) is possibly a stumbling block. I don't get eight hours of sleep a night. In fact, I rarely get six. According to many studies, this affects healing time and weight-gain hormones, so if I believe that, I'm not getting smaller because I'm not sleeping enough.
Wow. That simple? Well, I'm going to test it for a couple of months, but I will admit that the prospect of going to bed is no more inviting now than it was when I was a kid. There's too much to do, too much to think about, and 10:00 is too darn early to get sleepy. I suppose I will have to drug myself to sleep until I have altered my natural sleep rhythm, because nothing else ever happens that makes me sleepy enough... Or inspires me to go to bed early. Wink wink nudge nudge.
I slept for about 7 hours last night after taking Zzzquil, but I woke up with a near-hangover headache from it and I was groggy for hours. I wonder if one capsule would be enough to make me drowsy?
I was going to the gym tonight, but my legs are really starting to hurt and stiffen up. Right behind my knees.
In an ideal world, I could sleep adequately between midnight and five am, then go to the gym or run five miles first thing, and not be too worn out for the rest of my work day. I'd lose a pound for every 3500 calories i burned or cut from my diet. But that's not reality.
Reality is having to go it alone, with people REFUSING to work with you in any way, while all of your efforts have no effect anyway.
Reality is a bitch.
Okay, perhaps I should sugarcoat it. Reality is a harsh mistress. That sounds more in line with the Fifty Shades of Grey party I attended today, after all.