Last Thursday I was supposed to start a water aerobics class. With that said, my feet haven't felt the warm water of the local Boys and Girls pool yet. Why you may ask? Is it becasue I'm lazy? Is it becasue i just don't want to? The answer to those questions is, "NO!!!". If I had the body of a "normal" 38 year old, I would have been in that pool kicking and jogging with the best of them. The problem is, I don't. I have a back like a 90 year old woman.

Now, before I really get started, this post is going to be a little bit of "OH, poor me" and "How unfair is this?" But, on the same note, I'm more venting than complaining....though they can sound very much the same. I need to say that I try really hard to be a positive person. I have been dealing with back pain that can make just getting out of bed feel like an Olympic event. But, I truly believe that ______ (fill in the higher being of your choice) doesn't give me more than I can handle. Even on days like today when I feel like there are three little men in my back doing construction and at the same time I feel as though I am giving birth out of my back. Yes, this is ON medication. People who don't deal with chronic pain can't understand the thought process that goes on when dealing with it. I'm a strong woman, and I fight through so much of the pain but believe it or not, the meds only help lessen it, not get rid of it. The scary thing is I know that one thing many people don't think about. I know the pain can get worse. Therefore, I have to be happy that I'm not at that point.

I think my frustration with my back pain comes from a few places. 1. The weather is changing. When the weather gets colder, the pain gets worse. Also, I had a pool only a block away that I cold go to and do whatever activities I could. Now, I have to drive someplace and be there at a certain time and hope my back is cooperating with me on that day. 2. I have been going up and down within five pounds for a month now. I know I've eaten things I shouldn't, but there have only been a handful of times I have gone over my allotted calories for the day and when I did, it was no more than 100 calories. So, the fact that I'm on a HUGE stall (I've been the same weight (give or take) for two months. It sucks becasue I see other people who are five to six months out and they have lost so much more than I have. I KNOW, I KNOW....everyone losses at different rates. That's all fine and good unless you're the one who's not losing.

Now that I've complained....wait, I mean vented. I will say that I've learned a few things in the past month and a half. First, Nutella is NOT MY FRIEND. I am not sure why I love it now. I hated before surgery. Second, I think I am one of those people who can not lose weight unless I'm active. This goes back to what my mother always said, "You were a thin child until you went to school and had to sit still all day." The issue with this is that I can't move much everyday. Even on the good days I have to fight tears and my negative thoughts to get through any activity.

So, with my new awareness, I plan to take one day at a time. I plan to not work out when my body won't let me. I plan to not eat Nutella...well at least not during the NON-PMS times. I plan to try to not get on the scale every day. That just makes me feel worse. And last but not not least, I plan to be happy with who I am. I am a size 16/18 and I haven't been that size since H.S. I should be so happy that I'm bouncing off the walls. Of course, that may just hurt my back a little more....so, I think I'll stick to doing what I'm doing and only doing what I can. That's all we can do. I remember after surgery thinking that walking a mile would be an unattainable task. Now, on a good day, I can walk three. That's what keeps me going. Knowing that my body, no matter how broken it is, can still persevere. Now, if only it will persevere and lose another fifty pounds all would be good.