Sick of being sick.

“From the moment that you lose your health, it is too late. Health brings a freedom very few realize, until they no longer have it.”
—From “Top Five Regrets of the Dying,” by Bronnie Ware (fantastic article, by the way), reposted at

No, I’m not dying. Thank God. I don’t have a terminal illness. Thank you Lord. There are many people so much worse off than for me. I have only temporarily lost my health.  I shouldn’t complain.

But right now I’m sick of being sick.

I was sick with a cold/flu the entire week between Christmas and New Year’s. Like, in-bed-for-three-days sick. Our third wedding anniversary in the middle of that week was a total bust. I was much improved the first week of January, and my husband and I went out a couple of evenings for dinner and a movie or show. We took in some comedy at the local Improv. One male comedian joked about women who let themselves get fat after they get married. He complained that his wife told him, “If you really loved me, it shouldn’t matter how much weight I gain.” He replied to her, “If you really loved me, you wouldn’t get fat!” The men in the audience laughed hysterically while the women were silent. He said, “I know you women out there are pissed off at me right now for saying that, but it’s true. You know it’s true.” I cringed. I’m thankful for my husband all the time. He married me when I was at my heaviest weight.

Sunday night, I was ready to hit my eating plan full throttle for this serious next weight loss push. I prepared my intentional, healthy snacks and lunch that night, then went back to work on Monday. Several of my coworkers had been ill the week before, and some were still out sick. Ugh.

My husband and I had a fantastic workout at the gym on Monday night. Then Tuesday came, along with the all-too-familiar cruddy feeling: burning eyes, sore throat, headache, body aches.  I went to bed Tuesday night at 7:30pm, didn’t get up until 8:30am the next day and emailed-in sick.  Then went back to bed until 1pm. How many hours of sleep is that? Like 16? Sheesh.

Back to work Thursday and Friday. I ate normally, which means stuff like turkey sandwiches and shredded beef tacos. I’m feeling better, but now I have a hacking cough which, experience tells me, will last for weeks. Drives my poor husband nuts.

It’s just so frustrating. Starting is hard. Getting into the mindset is hard. Then a ginormous wrench gets thrown in.

Trying to figure out why I relapsed. My husband thinks I started too hard and fast on the food and exercise after being sick.  That along with one really bad night of sleep on Sunday apparently created the perfect storm.

And now I’ve gotten my husband sick. Eegads.

I’m trying not to fret too much about losing my flow. The amazing feeling I had throughout the fall as I dropped the weight. I want that feeling back. That focus. That commitment. That excitement. That hope. Right now I just want to feel better, which sometimes means having a chocolate chip cookie.

Doesn’t help that I’m PMS-ing, a time when my personal reality is completely altered.

My inner critic is saying, “You can’t stick with anything for long. You always quit after a few months.” Shut. Up.

Well, one hopeful sign of permanent change is that we miss the gym. We can’t wait to get back to the gym. It’ll still be there tomorrow.

I miss my health. I want it back.

A Christmas cold, thoughts on John Forsythe, and taking action in 2012!

Bachelor Father TV Show 1957-1962

I spent the final week of 2011 sick, laying in bed or sprawled on the couch, loaded up on Nyquil or Dayquil. Started feeling crummy on Christmas Day. There’s nothing like being having a super nasty cold/flu combo to make me appreciate my health. Thank you, Lord. Exercise and eating right staved off my annual fall cold, but the bug finally caught me.

So… I just don’t feel like analyzing the year that has just passed. I don’t feel like making any hollow New Year’s resolutions.  Just want to keep on, keeping on…

I discovered Antenna TV during my sick sojourn on the sofa. I especially liked Bachelor Father, a sitcom that aired from 1957 to 1962, about a man named Bentley Gregg who adopts his teenage niece after her parents are killed in a car accident. It’s like a super clean, totally unpolitically correct version of Two and a Half Men. John Forsythe plays the uncle. What a voice! And he’s such a smokin’ hot studmuffin! It’s fun just looking at and listening to him. He had a long TV career, including major roles in Charlie’s Angels and Dynasty. He died in 2010 at age 92.

During one episode, Bentley’s 13-year-old niece wants to go out on her first date. Bentley discusses this with another father and he laments about “kids these days. They’re growing up so much faster than we did.”  The show aired during the early years of my parents’ long marriage. They’d had four of their seven kids by the time the show ended.  Simpler times back then. More marriages stayed intact, for better or for worse.  Comedy was clean. Sure, women didn’t have the choices they have today; the civil rights movement was just beginning, and yet…  I feel a bit nostalgic for a time in which I never lived.

2012 is upon us now. My 19-year-old nephew can barely sit at a table with us for two minutes before he’s pulling out his smartphone to text or listen to music or play games. He cannot tolerate boredom or silence for any amount of time. Fortunately, his girlfriend takes his phone away from him when they’re together. Smart girl.

As for resolutions… None of those here. Just actions. Actions that will be documented on this blog as I press toward my goal—a journey that I began last July.  Looking forward to reading about your actions too this year! 🙂

Happy New Year!