It’s a Mad, Mad World – Day 1, Week 11

Again, I’m blogging on a Sunday instead of Saturday, but the pic and measurements were taken yesterday, so that has to account for something.

What a week I’ve had. What. A. Week.

I’m not even entirely sure where to begin.

Probably this.

I had known about it for nearly two weeks before it was officially announced, and it was legit the hardest secret I’ve ever held tight.

But, it’s official now. I’m back in radio, and this return to my first passion has been one of the most incredible feelings of accomplishments I’ve felt in nearly two years. When I was asked about my reasoning to return, I simply replied: “Once a radio kid, always a radio kid.” You simply can’t shy away from who you really are. And I love, love radio. When I got the news, I cried. I called my Dad crying. This felt so right, and natural. Being returned to your OG habitat, you know?

So what did that mean for the week I was back? It meant celebrating. Hard. And as I have said many times before, you have to allow yourself to feel and if that means enjoying food you promised promised promised to stay away from – whatever. There is always more to life than what you weigh, what inches you’ve shrunk, what pride you may feel from abstaining from the food that you thought you should. This week, it was caution to the wind.

However, there were other significantly awesome moments this week that went hand in hand to finally being back where I belong.

This is a big deal. Healing my ankle is a huge deal. And A at Loyalist Family Physio is working stringently to bringing me back to 100%. She uses laser and ultrasound therapy to ease the soft tissue swelling building up around my foot and it’s working. And not solely does she grind away at the issue at hand, she’s also come up with cognizant treatment plans that promote healthy healing I can do from home – and given there are stairs at work. In the two weeks I’ve been seeing her, I have now been permitted to take the cast off while sitting (must wear while I’m walking, taking the stairs, etc.), but I’m finally able to lose the cast while I’m still. Elevating while I sleep, while I am sitting. But the cast is coming off slowly. And as Derby tryouts loom, I’m feeling more aware that I’m getting closer to finally strapping on my skates for a summer of excitement.

The neat thing about being back to work is the mobility of it all. Just a month ago I was staring at my four walls, bemoaning my shitty stroke of fate. Looking around wondering if I’d ever be able to get up and have purpose again. I will always be a Mama. I will always handle the socials. But never have I ever had to just lay low. And I found myself so depressed and so sad and so defeated, it was hard to pull myself out of this funk. But this week, getting up and moving again, I felt alive. Alive. I haven’t felt like that since I fell.

I have tried tried to stay away from breads as best I can. Gluten-free options abound! Even at Denny’s, there are ways to order food that aren’t bread, pasta or rice.

Though, my Achilles heel will always be sauce. Do you have any idea just how many calories sauce can hold? Especially the savoury, buttery kind? A lot. A lot.

And I’m full-on addicted. To my detriment, I cannot food without sauce. I even have a couple of garlic sauces in my purse, on the ready. I know. I know.

Let’s shift gears.

The sun was up early today, and so was I. The time change happened over night, and it’s now getting closer to warm weather. The snow returning for a night was like that finally reminder that Old Man Winter wasn’t quite ready to concede the argument. But next weekend is officially spring, and I cannot wait to be back to flip flops, back to letting the sun bake me into a woman. I am a summer time gal at heart, and that means patios, BBQs, outdoor concerts and … the beach.

I remember last summer so well. I lost all of my weight in the winter. Between August and April. By the summer, I was back to my OG weight. And this summer is on track to be the same. I never did see what I looked like on the beach at my goal weight.

And you know what? It doesn’t fucking matter. Because the sun will still shine, the water will still be warm, the sand will still get stuck in all those crevices you can’t shake it out of, and that’s going to be just fine. Whether you two piece, or one piece, or shorts and teeshirt, or wear nothing at all – summer is still coming and all you’re required to do is enjoy it. Your beach body is the one you bring to splash around, bathe, soak up the sun. No one, and I mean this so implicitly, no one is looking at you and no one genuinely cares. You are only asked to keep one person happy – you. Because your physical weight will carry more than pounds if you’re living in sad – it will carry the weight of your unhappiness. So, repeat after me – the beach will get whatever body I give it. Go wear the Daisy dukes and halter tops. Go for the two piece. Go for whatever brings you peace and joy and happiness. I am. I hope you are, too.

As for this week’s weigh-in, I’m fluctuating water weight. And we’ve talked so often about what it means to see the weight not shift, but the inches come down.

I’m more than satisfied that the scale went up a pound, but the tape came down an inch on my waist and my hips. That’s proof that I’m mobile again and my metabolism isn’t sitting stagnant, praying I move further than from the couch to the table.

Weight – 195.4lbs, 39″ bust, 40″ waist, 40″ hips.

Here’s to a new week. New adventures.

Love to you all.

c xo

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