This Turkey Can’t Trot

Surprise! I haven’t fallen off the face of the earth. I’m still here, and I still have just as much to say as I ever have – maybe even more. So, why haven’t I been blogging my little heart out? First, I needed a mental health break. Thinking about this stuff all the time is exhausting. But mostly, I needed to give my hand a break. I have a pretty good case of carpal tunnel in my right wrist, and it’s made doing computer work outside of my actual get-paid-to-do-it job pretty much out of the question. Thankfully, I’m having surgery in a couple of weeks to take care of the problem – and then I plan to be back, blogging with a vengeance!

Today's post is brought to you by Thanksgiving.
Today’s post is brought to you by Thanksgiving.

Which leads me to the point of this post: I hate not being able to do things. It’s amazing how much I take for granted my ability to physically accomplish what I need – and want – to accomplish. Sprain your ankle or break your arm, and you suddenly realize how lucky you have been to have full use of that ankle or arm. Carpal tunnel has made it painful to do things like hold a steering wheel, blow dry my hair, use a fork, and lift weights in the gym. Guess which one irritates me the most? I mean, sure, I like to drive places and have my hair look nice and feed myself, but not being able to keep up with my regular workout routine seems like the cruelest blow.

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It’s just like how frustrated I am that my knee and ankle injuries have sidelined me from marathoning. I have a lot of athletic friends, and to see them posting their race bibs and finish times is so aggravating. I want to be queuing up with them! I want to be at that start line, bouncing on the balls of my feet from all the nervous energy! But my body won’t cooperate anymore. On Thanksgiving morning, hundreds of people are going to participate in a Turkey Trot. Not this turkey. The longing I feel to do something like that makes me drool almost as much as my mom’s homemade stuffing.

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As much as I hate to admit it, a huge reason that having physical limitations upsets me is because of my size. I don’t want to be seen doing less, because then I’ll look like a lazy fatty who isn’t trying – trying to not be so fat, trying to look better, trying to be better. Even though I have long given up the idea of being thin, of permanently losing weight through dieting or exercise, I still feel compelled to push myself to do more.  It’s basically my version of the “good fatty.” If I’m working out to the max of my abilities, then I’m a good fatty and you shouldn’t look down on me. I’m trying, see! I’m doing all I can!

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Of course, the truth is, I am doing all I can – right now. I can’t lift weights because it hurts a lot and my hand goes numb. I can’t walk or run a race because my knee throbs and my foot protests in pain. So swimming and doing Aqua Fit three times a week, working on my flexibility? Those things are good. Those things are good enough. Aren’t they?

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As much as society, the media, and the diet industry want me to feel certain things about my body (because every time I have a negative thought, they see dollar signs), I’m often my own worst enemy. I’m disappointed, discouraged, and even disgusted by what my body can and can’t do, what it does and doesn’t look like. Body acceptance is a journey.

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Right now, I wish my journey was taking me to the start line of a Turkey Trot, but it’s not. To all of you who are healthy enough to queue up and cross that finish line, I salute you. With my left hand.

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