Back in the summer I was determined to get in shape for my Beverly Hills trip. Call me shallow, call me vain, but I really wanted to look my best. I’d also begun to notice the tendency for the entire back of my arm to jiggle into its own zip code when I practiced my Vanna White wave.
In August 2009 on my 40th birthday I weighed more than I ever had in my LIFE outside of pregnancy and that was pretty darn depressing. While I’ve never been overweight and even at that weight I wasn’t technically overweight, it freaked me out because I’d been slowly and steadily gaining weight since Miss A was born in 2005. When you’re barely 5 ft. 2 inches tall each additional 5 pounds is the equivalent of 10, or might as well be any way.
I started walking one to two times a day and working out with arm weights and diligently counting calories. By the time I went on my trip in September I was down about 7 pounds from what I had weighed a year ago. I also started jogging a bit but my lower back down into my upper left butt cheek really started bothering me, especially at night when I’d lay down. And then about 6 weeks ago I started having a shooting pain down my left leg into my little toe. OUCH. Mix with this discomfort factor the whole craziness of back to school and Halloween and I was starting to slip into autumnal super slothness, where a daily nap in a Snuggie and copious amounts of comfort food sounded like pure bliss.
I found out I have a wonky sacroiliac joint, or SI joint, which is slowly getting whipped back into shape by a great local chiropractor. I’m trying to not get discouraged because I know I could have much worse health problems. I now have total new respect, though, for the term “pain in the butt.”