Let’s Get Healthy: Day Sixty-four (AKA Holy Crap) #romancefit
Time on Treadmill: 30 minutes.
Mood: Freaking ecstatic, to be honest.
Okay, you may remember back on Day Thirty-six when I mentioned that Shark Week had made its appearance and while I could tell that I was retaining water, I hadn’t gained any weight.
Well, Shark Week this month was due to start yesterday, and I had all the classic symptoms — a brief bout of murderous PMS (now I know why I howled at Ramón a couple of nights ago), cramps, and water retention. I’m not seeing any blood or other materials making their presence known, however (which could just mean that it’ll happen next week). But the water retention was fairly hideous, to the point where I could press divots along my shin from my ankle almost to my knee and my face was visibly puffy.
So I stepped on the scale this morning … and I’d dropped over half a pound. I’m currently at the lowest weight I’ve been in at least three years (I know I keep saying that, but it keeps going down), and I’m retaining at least three pounds of water. When my reproductive system finally gives up the ghost this month and lets all the water go, I suspect I am in for one hell of a pleasant surprise.
And with that in mind, I have a new goal. First, of course, we’ll need reliable medical insurance that will cover it, but I have a specific goal weight in mind. When I reach it, I’m going in for knee replacement surgery. It’s been one of those things that I keep thinking I need to get done, but it’s become very obvious with Chuck that while my endurance is up and I’m getting fitter, my knee pain is getting worse and it’s screwing with other things on that leg. So, time to go bionic and slap in a titanium replacement model. Ramón is terrified at the thought (he’s a control freak about certain things and surgery is one of them — he wouldn’t even let his oral surgeon give him gas or anything during his wisdom tooth extraction, just novocaine) and has muttered about going in to his doc to beg for a single Xanax while I’m in surgery, poor dear.
Me, I just wanna walk again without pain. That’s not too much to ask, I think.