I really think I went a little off the deep-end last week when it came to control. I realize that we never have complete and real control over our lives but I felt it even more astutely over the past week or two. I turned that chaotic feeling inward and really tried to hold myself to standards that were downright stupid.
I had my foot surgery seven weeks ago today. At this point, I can walk probably seven kilometers without any problems, I can comfortable get my foot into three different pairs of shoes and my pain is relatively low. That is major progress but instead of appreciating and rewarding myself, I decided it was time to put things into high gear in regards to pain and discomfort.
I tried not to eat any carbs, eat as little overall as possible and even had the desire to go for two workouts a day (fortunately I simply ran out of time or never could rally myself to go do it now that it's cold and rainy in Gent). I managed to stick to this for nearly two weeks. And guess what showed on the scale? Absolutely zero progress. And that really drove me nuts and made me feel pretty bad about myself.
Instead of doubling (quadrupling?) my efforts, I decided to take a step back and reassess. I don't think I comprehended all the pressure I've put on my body these past two months with surgery, anesthesia and recovery. I've been going to physical therapy every.single.day. It hasn't been easy and I haven't been lazy. In the past two+ week, I went to Asia twice: Japan and then China. When I start looking at it through someone else's eye, I can totally understand why despite my best efforts, my body was holding on to every ounce. It is in total survival mode; it no longer remembers what normal looks and feels like.
So these past few days, I've been kinder. I've eaten some carbs, I drank some wine, I didn't feel guilty when I failed to do yoga. I tried to focus on simply making health choices: move in a way that brings enjoyment every day, eat wholesome, healthy foods, and have compassion and empathy for myself. And the strangest desire started happening. I started to crave to move more. Not for calorie reasons but to reconnect with my body. I got excited to lift weights (I haven't in months and months due to the feet) or go for a swim. Nothing strenuous, more spending time with me. And I decided the weight is what it is. If I keep moving and eating well, the surgery weight will come off when it is ready. And I'm okay with that.