Blenderbuss

blunderbuss (blun·der·buss)-noun
1. historical, a short-barreled large-bored gun with a flared muzzle, used at short range.
(NOT THIS!)
2. an action or way of doing something regarded as lacking in subtlety and precision.
Yeah, the second. That is me on a diet.

This morning I was in a heap of sobs.

After I fixed breakfast for my daughter, I went back to bed. Couldn’t stand up any more or even sit down. I had a gripping headache, all-over muscle soreness and I felt really weak. Plus, I wanted to get as far away from the smell of Pop-Tarts as possible.

As I was laying down, my husband came in at some point and started rubbing my back. As soon as he touched my back I just broke. Idk why. It was either his kindness or the proximity of a human being who loves me. I just shook and whined and gushed. I started speaking all the things I was feeling so that he could understand.

I’m tired.
I’m so hungry.
I don’t wanna feel this way any more.

As I said the last one, my mind shifted.

I don’t wanna feel this way any more.

I immediately thought–
You’re right! You don’t wanna feel this way any more. You don’t wanna be fat. You don’t wanna have heart disease. You don’t want arthritis. You don’t want chronic stomach pain. You don’t want sleep apnea. You don’t want to be out of breath after walking down the hall. And that’s why you are suffering this tiny amount before you can get better. I am, basically, detoxing.

I didn’t say these things out loud though. Just thoughts.

Then my husband shared a story he had heard on NPR. It was about marathon runners hitting “the wall”. I’d heard this before. Somewhere after Mile 20, a runner can hit the proverbial wall. They reach the limit. They can’t go on. Or don’t want to. They’ve pushed their body past the limit of human endurance and the body just wants to stop. But they go past that feeling. He said, “You’re so close! Almost there.”

He’s right. This has been a marathon. After 2012-heart failure and after 2014-heart failure and after 2015-thyroidectomy, I was really trying to exercise and eat right. Before, during and after each bout. Really. Truly. I had started going to the gym before I was diagnosed with heart failure. That probably highlighted my condition, actually. My husband and I would go the YMCA at least 3 nights a week, usually 5 times a week, and never missed a week unless we were sick. 2 years of working out, eating right and really watching sodium.

Lost 100 lbs. in total before thyroid surgery. Then with cancer, my health plunged down into a hole that I just couldn’t dig myself out of. Again.

Marathon. Right. And I’m so close. I am stronger than deprivation. I am stronger than headaches and soreness. I am stronger than cancer, heart failure, arthritis, hypothyroidism and sleep apnea. My will is stronger than illness. I can push past. I can finish this race.

So. After my family left for the day. I launched myself off the bed. Broke out the new blender. (Toastmaster Personal Blender, no I’m not being paid. $15) Buzzed up a footy protein shake and started over. I gotta say, I felt alot like that shake in the blender. Chopped up and a mix of emotions. A blenderbuss. But as imprecise about dieting and as loud about feelings and struggles as I am, I come out just like that shake. Ready to drink! lol

No.

I come out feeling like I can put all the parts together, good and bad, rough and fine, and have something that I don’t mind feeding myself with.

UPDATE: weight this morning is 432. 😀

Dear brothers and sisters, when troubles of any kind come your way,
consider it an opportunity for great joy.
For you know that when your faith is tested, your endurance has a chance to grow.
James 1:2-3, NLT

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