kaire

Last night I dreamt that I was screaming at the people in charge of the melt down program I’m in at a local fitness center.  They kept brushing me off and I lost it.  I made a few people cry.  This dream may be a little bit of foreshadowing.

This was suppose to be a biggest loser kind of thing.  It started mid-April and you were suppose to get all kinds of crazy good support.  I was called Monday night to schedule my final measurements.  I asked what happened to the mid-way measurements and the woman told me that they got too busy.  I also asked what happened to my weekly contact by my personal coach.  She said they just became aware of that problem.  I told her that I was very disappointed and discouraged by the program and how it didn’t fulfill the promises they made.  She told me it was a new program and they were learning how to handle it, and the next program would be better.  I told her there wouldn’t be a “next” program for me.

What I really want to say to them is don’t screw with fat people!  Don’t tell me that you are going to be there for me then disappear!  Most importantly, don’t get me emotionally invested in improving myself and then tear up the path I thought I was following.  All this has taught me is that I am on my own and that no matter how much someone says they care, they really don’t, especially if they have your money already.  Thanks for adding to the destruction life has already handed me.

As soul slamming as it’s been to be ignored by people who were paid to encourage me, I have to tell you about the flip side of this;  my gym’s cardio challenge.  It was so cool to be told last night that I’m over half way done.  Even better was being told that I am far ahead of a lot of people!  I only have about 11 miles left on the treadmill.  I have gone from walking about 2.4-2.5 mph to 2.8-2.9.  I’ve taken almost 7 minutes off my mile time.  My stride is better and my left leg is stronger.  My left foot and ankle are remembering how to flex and push in a more normal walking manner.  14 ½ years and my body is still able to surprise me.  I was going along yesterday when all of a sudden my left foot went through this rolling motion of putting my heel down and following through to push off with my toes.  For a long time I’ve had more of a “whole foot down, push off with foot” thing going on.  I’m guessing this was a strength issue as my muscle memory seems to recall how it’s suppose to go.

My thighs don’t burn when I’m peddling the bike and I’ve gone from an over 6 minute mile to under 5.  The only thing that does start to bother me is my butt and the bottom of my feet.  I’ve now peddled 26 miles, with only 24 more to go.  The elliptical isn’t a problem.  I need to burn 1800 calories and I’m already at about 1200.

When you leave the gym, you report what you did for the day and they add up the totals.  I have one guy in particular who is becoming my cheerleader.  When I get there he acknowledges that I’m there to work on my triathlon and to give it my all.  When I leave he tells me my status and tells me how I’m going to make it and that I’m on a great pace to finish this easily.  The owner of the gym is also wonderful.  She’s the one who got me to sign up.  The gym mascot is a cardinal and they are putting up birds on a wall as people finish.  I said I want my bird to be up-side-down with his little dead feet in the air.  She laughed and said she’d do that, but to realize some people won’t finish the challenge.

I don’t understand that.  Not finish?  Why?  What’s the excuse?  Ok, so when I started my thought was that I’d do my best and see if I could get close to finishing it.  Ok, honestly I thought there was no way in hell that I could walk that many miles in a month and that wasn’t even taking the other two parts into count.  I’m a slow, limping walker people!  I’m handicapped!  I can’t expect to do what an able bodied person can do!  Geeze!

It’s given me something to fight for and I realize I miss that.  I’ve never been athletic in my entire life, but physical therapy was a fight for me and it was equivalent to training.  My sport was getting my life back.  My new sport is making my body the best it can be.  Not the best it can be for a handicapped woman.  Just the best it can be … period.