Thursday, August 15, 2013
"Hey, you've got a bone back here," my husband said, poking at my back.
"It was more padded until recently."
"I'm glad you said that. You know that 10 pounds I lost so quickly? I've gained all of that back, and another ten pounds. And I've added an inch to all my measurements."
"You've clearly lost fat in the front and the back, and you stamina is way up, so I'd say you're putting on muscle."
"Yeah, but it's a bit of a bummer to have such an oddball physiology."
"I don't recall you saying that when you're pregnant, you who have 20-minute labors."
"Hey, it's not all bad! And then there's the other sign my health is improving."
"We could have done without that."
"Eh, better out than in I suppose."
In addition to being a short endomorph with a physiology that runs backwards of "the standard" I also have PTSD. Whenever I get to feeling really good, my hindbrain serves up a dose of repressed memories. Since there's a damn good reason they were repressed, this is pretty much the textbook definition of No Fun. It also takes time and energy away from my exercise regimen. Not to mention my sleep patterns, emotional stability, appetite, oh just look up the symptoms. But I'm seeing someone, and even though nothing is resolved yet apparently my subconscious is satisfied with the effort I'm putting into it.
So all in all I'm getting healthier. It's a long and winding path to health, with nothing straightforward about it. But it's going somewhere.