Less than 48 hours after writing a big, long, self-inspiring "I'm ready to kick 2017's butt" blog entry...life decided to test just how committed I actually am to those goals. After already doing one workout Tuesday morning (Zumba), I prepared an tough, new HIIT (high intensity interval training) class for my students that night. I was excited to try a lot of new exercises (some that I'd borrowed from different Beachbody workouts) and to really push my students and myself. I went into that class feeling strong and good and really freaking determined. And then on the 3rd exercise....I broke my foot.
While showing everyone how to do an A-skip (which as my friend Jen Tippets put it...is just a glorified "running man" haha)...I landed on one foot and apparently did it wrong, because I heard a snap and went down. And just like a year ago when I tore my calf muscle...I knew immediately that I was done. I was certain it was broken.
I honestly think that my first emotion was horrified embarrassment. I had 2 brand new students there who I'm sure just saw a big fat girl try to jump and then break herself doing so. Luckily one of my fellow instructors was still just outside the aerobics room and was able to come in and take over my class while the lifeguards wrapped my foot and my hubby came to rescue me and get me to the ER. (Thank you Tess for kicking their butts for me!)
After having to butt scoot down 2 flights of stairs at the gym due to a broken elevator, I climbed into the van, shut the door so my boss couldn't hear me...and just broke down crying and screaming (and swearing).
I was truly heartbroken...and really freaking mad.
Even before the x-rays confirmed it, I knew that this injury was going to clear my calendar for the next few months. I felt everything I had worked for and everything I had planned for myself ripped right out from under me. How ironic...that I had just written out all these goals I had for myself...about exercise and weight loss...only to have life decide that that was all a little too easy and I needed to add a twist.
As we dealt with the various doctors and nurses and techs at the hospital, my paranoia and self-doubt went into overdrive. Every time someone asked me how I'd hurt myself...and every time I told them I am a fitness instructor, I saw the surprise on their faces and heard the "Oh! Really? Well cool." reactions. I've always known I was the biggest fitness instructor at my gym and honestly it's never really bothered me. When I teach a Zumba class, I use it. I shimmy and shake like nobody's business and I'm PROUD of the fact that I'm a plus size fitness instructor. But in that moment with all those health professionals...I felt small and like I was some joke they were going to laugh at once I was gone. No one said anything to that effect and I'm sure a lot of it was just in my head...but that's how I felt. And it was horrible.
After a series of extremely painful x-rays that had me balling like a baby...and then an hour long wait for the doctor...we finally saw this...
The ER doc told me he knew it was broken before the x-rays even came up...and that it's going to be 6-8 weeks minimum for recovery. Then he added the fun part. I might need surgery. (which I will have to wait until next Tuesday to find out for sure) Feeling completely disheartened and frustrated, I muttered something about this messing up my life. He gently pointed out that it could be so much worse and that I'd be just fine.
And he's right.
So it's time to shift my focus a bit. I'm glad that my family and I had already decided it was time to eat better because that's going to be my main focus for the next few months. I made the decision as we left the hospital that I'm NOT going to let this be an excuse to live on comfort food and self pity. It was almost 11pm and I was starving...but instead of going through a drive thru for a late night burrito like I would have a couple weeks ago...Nathan went into 7-11 and grabbed me a (surprisingly delicious) salad. It seems like a silly thing...but that one decision was the most important one I've made so far this year. It set a precedent for more healthy eating decisions to come and reminded me that I CAN do this. And while I went to bed in pain and sad..I also went to bed determined not to let this beat me.
I've always told my weight loss group participants that weight loss is 80% nutrition and 20% exercise and that injuries are no reason to let yourself give up. I guess it's time for me to prove that. And I fully intend to. Honestly, it will help that I can't drive to go get myself all the unhealthy food I want haha.
So here are my goals for the forseeable future:
1) Continue tracking my food on MFP. Stay under 1500 calories a day.
2) 100 oz of water a day, no excuses.
3) Continue weekly meal planning as a family and still allow for one meal out/ordering in
4) Get in at least 2 upperbody/core workouts at home each week and add in some shadow boxing for cardio when I'm ready.
5) Be kind to myself when I start to feel like a failure or like I should give up.
6) Finish watching all seasons of Gilmore Girls on Netflix and do so without snacking the whole time! ;)
7) Fully participate in my upcoming Jilly's Losers boot camp season to the best of my ability.
8) Lose 20lbs or more by the time I am allowed to go back to teaching.
2017 is still going to be my year and it is still going to be amazing. It may just be the percocet talking, but one way or another I will make it through the next 2 months and then I will come back stronger than ever. I'm grateful to have such a wonderful family who is taking care of me and of each other while I can't....and for my amazing friends who have brought dinners (healthy ones even!), thoughtful gifts and have taken my kids when I need to rest. I love you more than you know and would surely sink into depression without you.
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