Today I was angry. And sad. and self-loathing. And probably a bit self-pitying.
Yesterday was my birthday. I turned 35. I felt so grateful to have another year under my belt and a new one to look forward to. I went to yoga in the morning.
I went to the doctor in the afternoon.
I called the doctor because I had another spell of vertigo on Monday, right at the end of yoga class. I turned on my right side and the whole room flipped. And hour later I was vomiting from the motion sickness. A few weeks of better food choices and exercising was not going to be my panacea. I came face to face—in yoga class of all places—with the fact that I wasn’t going to clear this problem up on my own. I needed medical intervention.
But when I sat in the doctor’s chair, an old problem, one I like to pretend had gone away, came rearing it’s ugly head. The nurse took my blood pressure: 174/121. high. Very high. The doctor prescribed medication. He told me to start treating salt like poison. Ordered labs and referred me to an ENT to further investigate my vertigo.
And there it is. Another reason moving more and reducing my size no longer optional. My life depends on it…
And this morning, after a rough night of child-interrupted sleep, I woke up irritable. Both my daughter and husband were sick with colds and everything I had planned to do today was thrown off. And, I have very high blood pressure. And I need to lose weight.And I was a grouch. And I wanted to eat a pizza covered in french fries and feel better.
But instead, I went to the gym. I stepped on the elliptical. The battery was dead on my ancient iPod. I had to listen to their god-awful early 80’s rock. I jumped on, started to move. I worked hard. Sweat poured down my face and arms. When I wanted to quit, I closed my eyes. I kept going.
20 minutes later, I jumped on the stationary bike. After three minutes, I wanted off. I was done.I closed my eyes again. I stated breathing. I took my glasses off. I thought about being labor. I thought about how I learned to take it one contraction—one minute—period at a time. I thought,
“You gave birth to a baby without drugs. And you think you can’t do this?!”
20 minutes later, I was done. Drenched in sweat, tired, but done. A small victory. In the face of a major set back, I chose to accelerate. And I left that gym energized, calm, and 100% happier than I was before I arrived.
And tomorrow…I’m doing it again.