So, I rang the doctor about my medication and weight gain. The receptionist said he would phone me back the following day, which he did, but he woke me up. This meant that I was completely unable to string a sentence together. Do other people have that problem with Fibromyalgia?
I can’t think clearly at all sometimes. Or I can think, but the connection between my brain and my mouth is disrupted and what comes out of my mouth is a slow, slurred, muddled mess. It doesn’t happen all the time, but if I’m woken from sleep like that there is no point trying to talk to me for at least 20 minutes.
Anyway. I managed to say that I had put on a stone and a half over 4 months whilst taking the Amiltriptyline. The Dr said that this wasn’t possible as weight gain wasn’t a side effect of the medication. I was so befuddled that I couldn’t put together a sentence that made much sense, so trying to reason with him was impossible.
I am going to give him a copy of the leaflet from the packet, with the bit that says it causes weight gain clearly highlighted, along with a letter outlining my concerns about my weight.
He ended up saying that he couldn’t help me, that I should continue to take the meds and to stop trying to run and that I should try swimming instead. (That’s all fine in theory – but there is no way on earth I am getting half naked in public!)
On another note, I’ve lost another pound in the last few days – so that’s 8lbs lost in a week and a bit since I stopped taking the Amiltriptyline. Not bad for someone with an underactive thyroid. 🙂
But I haven’t managed to get to work since Tuesday. Sleep patterns are all over the place and the pain is awul.
After the initial high of my first run – day 2. For whatever reason, I decided to completely rearrange all the furniture in the lounge first. This was probably as strenuous as a run itself. But I found myself twitching and wanting to run! That’s a first. I don’t know if it was because the furniture was making me feel a bit claustrophobic or what, but I had to get out of the house.
My legs were still burning from the day before. Every step of my walk/run was painful. I took the dog with me, but he just wanted to run… and run… and run! I let him off the lead across the park – he decided that I was too slow and bolted home. I live next to the park, so it’s not like he was running wild down streets and roads. He ran home and sat on the door step waiting for me. Could’t decide if that was a good thing or not, cheeky boy!
When I got in, I could hardly move. I timed myself this time. Normally I would walk that route slowly with the dog. It would take about an hour, give or take. This time it took 26 minutes. I’ll use this as a baseline.
I don’t understand how people manage to run for more than a couple of minutes at a time. It hurts. It really hurts. It hurts my thighs – (walking up the 2 flights of stairs at work today nearly killed me). It hurts my shins. It hurts my chest. I feel like I’m going to puke. It hurts my side when I get a stitch. Why do people do this? Tell me its going to get easier – please!?!
Today I decided to start. I’d been thinking about it for a while. So many things in my life have always got in the way; work, kids, husband, no husband, no work. You name it, I’ve used it as an excuse for sitting on my fat bum, binging on food and Netflix.
So…I ran. Not far. Not fast. But I ran.
It hurt; but not as much as I expected it to. It was embarrassing; but less so in the dark. It was oddly liberating.
I haven’t run since I was in the hockey team at school. I’m 40 now, so it was quite a while ago.
I’ve been walking with my dog for a few months. My fitness has increased in that time. Unfortunately so has my body size. I take a variety of medication for various health conditions. I think the pills I started on before Christmas for pain, have contributed to me putting on weight. But to be fair and honest, I’ve found myself secretly eating.
When there is nobody around, I’ll eat a bar of chocolate. Or sneak something I shouldn’t into my room. I realised how bad it was when I ‘found’ that I’d eaten 2 tubes of Pringles, to myself, in the space of 12 hours and had to hide the evidence from my boyfriend. I say ‘found’, because I hadn’t noticed that I’d done it. Obviously I knew I’d bought them. But I hadn’t noticed how many I’d stuffed into my mouth whilst watching the telly. It suddenly hit me when I saw the two empty tubes on my bedside table. What a fat cow!
So that was it. The last straw – or at least the last Pringle.
Basically, I’m a fat girl, who wants to run, to have better sex.
I’m 5ft 6. I weight 17.6 stone. I wear a size 20, and have a 38G bust. I hate my body at the moment. (There are some great bits – did I say – I have a 38G bust!) Like so many others out there, I want to do something about it.
I have no illusions that I’ll suddenly lose 9 stone and be a size 8. That is not my goal.
I’d like to be a size 16. Well – I’d really like to be a size 12 and weigh 11 stone, like I did before I had children; with a pelvic floor that didn’t fail on me every time I sneezed. But lets be realistic.
My reasons for wanting to be thinner – I’m supposed to say – are to be fitter and healthier. But those aren’t my reasons. My real reasons…my real, personal goal – is to have better sex.
Yes that’s probably a little too honest. But I like sex. I have a boyfriend. We have great sex with each other, and every now and again, we like to have same room, full swap sex with other people.
Writing that down so publicly is rather scary. I’m sure you’ll judge me for it. But I can’t be the only woman out there who wants to be thinner and sexier and happens to like sex with more than one person at a time.
Having said all that – I know that I am attractive to lots of men out there. There are plenty of blokes who like a BBW. But my boyfriend isn’t one of them.
So…I’m going to run. Not just to please him. But to please me.