I've pledged to be more mindful of my beer consumption, as I seem to do a few times a year every year. I hate seeming like an overgrown college burn-out that continually wakes up in a hungover stupor questioning her life decisions- really, my life hasn't devolved to that level just yet. All the same, I know I would feel better if I would just grow the fuck up and drink like a responsible person which means eating actual meals beforehand and remembering that 9% beer will knock me on my ass and to drink slowly.
So, I'm a couple weeks into that mission and feeling pretty good though there is room for improvement. The beginning of summer is a strange mix of wanting both more and less social plans. I like doing things but then constantly feel like I'm spending too much, going out to eat too much, drinking too much, etc. On the other hand, those things are all fun so maybe I shouldn't complain and should just deal with the occasional hangovers and just existing 10-15 pounds above what I might like to be in a perfect world. I feel like I have this moral dilemma pretty frequently and it always ends with me taking the lazy and more gluttonous road.
What else? I've started occasionally working out in the morning which I swore I'd never do. My major beef with morning workouts is, duh, getting up earlier because who the fuck wants to do that? However, I realized that my usual morning routine is so stupidly long (usually 90ish minutes) that I have been able to rework it and only have to get up 10 minutes earlier to get to the gym, then just do my makeup while driving (safe) and chalk my hair up as a loss for the day (like it isn't anyway half the time). I definitely don't feel refreshed or empowered or like I'm overflowing with energy and ready to take on the day like some of these other morning workout freakshows claim, but at least it gets it out of the way early. I mostly just do it when I've got shit to do in the evenings, like flag football. Otherwise, I'll probably continue to procrastinate til the evenings.
Had my 12ish week appointment with the surgeon, all was good, in and out. I'll see him again in mid-July, but there's really nothing new going on there. I guess that's a no news is good things kinda thing, because it means life is normal and I don't have any restrictions or weird things I have to do anymore. Last night was the first night back at my usual Monday kickboxing class which is only relevant because that is the class where I first decided I needed to have my arms cut off, or cut down at least. It was nice being back at the scene of the crime and not have my arms flapping in the wind as I punched.
It's also crazy/fucked up how much I seek out pool-going opportunities so I can wear bikinis. It's like I know I only have a limited window before some other part of my body begins to massively deteriorate or I gain 48 pounds, and I need to get all the bikini-wearing in now. I really want to add a horribly obnoxious YOLO meme but I'll resist the urge. So that's that, life is good, eating is decent and could be better, working out is back to normal, etc. etc.
Thursday, June 4, 2015
Yesterday was twelve weeks post-surgery, and I have what will likely be my last post-op check-up with the doctor next Monday. I really can’t imagine needing to see him for anything at this point since the only surgery-related stuff I’m still doing is putting bio-oil on the incisions to help the scars fade. The stomach incision doesn’t bother me at all since it’s so low down and not visible in anything, but I’ll probably ask if there is anything else I can do for the arms. I was at a class at the gym on Monday and got stuck in the very front, and during overhead tricep extensions I was like, OH RIGHT, I have bigass scars snaking up my upper arms that the world can see from this position. That said though, they don’t bother me and I don’t regret the surgery at ALL because my arms (pythons?) look really good and feel really good, and when my arms are in pretty much any other position, the scars aren’t visible, or are barely so. But for the curious among you, here’s what they look like:
Pretty funky, yeah?
Working out has been good, normal, haven’t started leaking guts out of any incision or orifice. I’ve been slow to up my running because I’m lazy and not all that ambitious but I’m almost back to 4 miles, and could probably do it if I actually had any willingness to push myself. I was nervous about lifting at first but that has been totally 100% fine. So basically, I’m just pretending I never had surgery, other than the 3-4 minutes I still spend checking myself out in the mirror every morning. It’s horrifically vain but when you’ve never had a flat stomach in your adult life (or really, adolescent life either) and then a magical doctor is like, “TADA! Here you go!” you revert back to 13 year old-caliber narcissism trapped in a 31 year old’s body.
I’m still doing MFP and have basically leveled out weight-wise the last few weeks after some extreme ups and downs. I’m not as low as my lowest but about 7 pounds lower than what I was before surgery so that is OK with me I think. I’ve been tracking like a beast but could be making better decisions, particularly on the weekends and particularly on the drinking front, so that’s my goal for June.