I swear. It’s true. Once upon a time, I used to be active.
There was a time when I would throw on my sneakers and run and run and run. When I would gladly jump into a pool and swim 100 laps with ease. When I was more than happy to call up a friend and spend hours upon hours hiking up new and unexplored mountains.
I used to be active.
Then, I was diagnosed with endometriosis. And there was the pain. The near constant pain. Throw in the drive to get pregnant, and the hormones involved (hormones that more often than not left me wanting nothing more than to eat and sleep), and… I’m not so active anymore.
In fact, over the last year and a half I’m pretty sure that all my previous muscles and strength have been morphed into a disturbingly jiggly pile of flesh.
Granted, I haven’t actually gained any weight. In fact, I was weighed at an appointment today and was told that I’ve dropped 6 pounds since last year. But… there is no question that I am no longer fit.
And I am certainly no longer active.
Which is why I had been so excited to start this boot camp tonight. It felt like it would be a good way to jump start my active lifestyle again. To get me back into shape, and maybe help pave the way to dropping another 15 pounds or so.
Because hey, if I can’t have babies – I wouldn’t hate having the body I had when I was 22. If nothing else, I am more or less determined to look better in a bikini than all of my baby making friends.
I've got to have a win somewhere!
I was ready to get moving though. Convinced that this is what I needed right now to not only get to feeling better physically, but also mentally.
And then… I started my period last night.
And while it is nothing compared to periods from the past, I’m still more than a little uncomfortable. And bloated. And achy. And tired.
All I want to do is crawl into bed and sleep. And eat. And sleep some more.
I’m a little bitter with aunt flo right now. Did she really have to go and ruin my very first night of boot camp? With the exception of a few hikes last summer, I haven’t actually worked out at all in almost a year and a half. Two hours at a pilates boot camp was going to be hard enough without the excessive bleeding and cramping. And now, with this added element, I just really do not want to go.
But, it’s already paid for and I know that physically I am ready for this. So I’m going to power through. I am going to pop a prescription strength ibuprofen, make myself a quick dinner, and try to throw on some workout clothes that don’t cling too tightly to my overly bloated gut. I am going to work out tonight in a pad that hopefully won’t be totally visible through my yoga pants - but you had better believe I am cursing my stand against the evil tampon empire right now as well. There is just too much bulk and mess to really make me feel even kind of confident about whatever angles I’m going to be expected to bend in tonight.
This is the way of the world though. Or at least, it’s exactly what I should have expected from my period.
On the bright side, I looked at my calendar today and realized that I had a 32 day cycle this time around. I’ve been running on 40-45 day cycles for the last few years anytime I’ve been off birth control, so this is the most “normal” cycle I’ve had in a while. Not that “normal” means much of anything, since I’m not trying to conceive anymore, but… it’s nice to know that things are at least kind of working how they should be.
Of course, for those of you keeping track; I also have cootchie PT tomorrow.
Which only adds to the poor timing of my turn to ride the cotton pony this month – "normal" cycle or not.
I tried to call this morning and cancel. I explained that the crimson tide was flowing, and I would be more than happy to reschedule for a time when the situation down there wouldn’t be quite so… messy.
But, they assured me it would be no big deal. That they deal with situations like this all the time.
I immediately hung up the phone and turned to my co-worker and shuddered as I explained to her how disgusting this entire concept was to me.
She let out a little giggle before replying “What’s the big deal? It’s just a part of life!”
Yeah. Sure it is. A part of life that I wouldn’t want to be sticking my thumbs into.
I truly feel sorry for Dr. PT tomorrow. That is a dirty job that I’m not sure you could pay me enough to take on. And as far as I’m concerned – it pretty much completely takes away from any of the amusement I previously had surrounding this event.
I’m convinced the entire thing is going to be ridiculously disturbing. The kind of event that will likely scar me for life and leave me wishing for the days when my biggest concern was a little vaginal muscle spasm.
And on that note – I think it’s time for me to head out. I’ve got a 2 hour workout calling my name.
And a bed that might just be calling a little louder.
I used to be active.
Now, I’m just actively bleeding.
I should probably try to do something about that.
ADSPACE
