Posted by Sally Kilpatrick Apr 27 2012, 12:07 am in boot camp, injury, Sally Kilpatrick, the perils of fuzzy socks
I can’t say I’m going to miss the 4:55 wake up call, but I’m sorely disappointed to end my boot camp experience early. You see, I did what I so often do: I managed to injure myself to the point that I’m out of commission for the next four weeks.
Yes, I went over to the neighbor’s house to collect Her Majesty and took off my shoes upon entering. Unfortunately, I’d been wearing fuzzy socks because I didn’t want to turn on the heat. Those fuzzy socks did not go well with my neighbor’s hardwood stairs and I bounced down half the staircase, flailing and unable to stop myself.
The good news is that I missed kidneys, nerves, and bones. The bad news is that I did some hefty damage to the soft tissue—enough to require anti-inflammatory medicine and muscle relaxers for how my back is stressed from all of the creative ways I’ve been sitting and sleeping in order to not put pressure on the massive bruise.
It’s so frustrating.
I had finally brought my body up to a level of conditioning that was going to serve me well as a spring-board for my half-marathon training. I had finally lost another half pound bringing me down to three and a half on the year, my biggest loss thus far. Now I have to focus on dieting, the part I absolutely hate. I did talk the doctor into being able to attempt brisk walks and/or water aerobics in a week, but I am officially on the DL.
The last time I injured myself this badly, it was the top of my foot, and the doctor told me no exercising for 12-18 weeks. That was the beginning of the end of my 30 pound loss. I’m within 15 pounds of where I started before that journey.
Okay. I’m buckling down. Dates on the calendar and reminders for patience with my apparently unbalanced and uncooperative body. Tomorrow—actually today as you’re reading this—time to dig out the old food diary and find what worked. Time to drag my exhausted self to the grocery store to properly stock the cabinets—at least it’s payday. Maybe I should Google a hypnotist to convince me of how much I love salad and broiled fish. While he’s at it, he can find a way to make me hate red wine, chocolate, and frozen Coke.
The worse part? I hate the feeling of not being able to finish what I started. I was already one of the slowest, weakest people in the group, but I could live with that because I was up, I was trying, and I was getting faster and stronger. But now? I’m that chick who ditched the class because she “supposedly” fell down a flight of stairs. On her butt.
But c’est la vie. At least you can look forward to my future adventures in water aerobics….
The results? In basically two weeks of boot camp, I lost 3.5 pounds but gained a great deal of muscle. Measurement wise, I only lost a half inch on my chest and a half inch on the fattest part of my belly. (I usually measure neck, bust, waist, belly, hips, bicep, and thigh). But as to conditioning, I made great strides in upping my reps of burpees, assisted push-ups, lunges, and triceps dips in addition to greater endurance while running. Basically, my biggest diet concession was forgoing alcohol. (-0.5 week/-3.5 year)