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Where the hell are Inigo and Fezzik when you need them!

Hello, everyone. Let’s step WAY outside the comfort zone. I’ll be uncomfortable. You’ll be uncomfortable. We’ll just have a fun, uncomfortable time together. M’kay?

OR…I guess you could turn and step away from the computer. May not be a bad idea when you consider the pictures I’m going to be showing you. We’ve (meaning “I’ve”) talked a lot about my poor, old body and the toll that the surgery, hormones, lack of exercise, etc have taken on it. Well, lucky you. You now get to see visual proof of how far I’ve come. Or, should I say, how far I’ve GONE. It’s kind of sad. And pathetic.

This was in ’07. It’s when my POP symptoms first started presenting themselves. This picture is a point of reference for the hell to follow. I’m 5’10”. I weighed in then at 175 pounds then. That sounds like a LOT, but when you consider my height and build, 175 is right where I want to be. As you can see, 175 is not bad. ’07 is when the intensity of my workouts slowed down a bit. Not much. But a little bit. I was having symptoms of the bladder and attributed it to me getting older and having given birth to four large babies. It wasn’t bad. I’d wear a pad when I played volleyball, but it was manageable.

Then came this:

This was two weeks post op. June 2010. Even with the tapering down the work out intensity, I was still able to do enough to keep in OK shape. I was 185 here. Ten pounds over where I was in ’07.  Not horrible. You can tell that I have a little extra around the middle. But I could totally live with being 185 if I needed to be. I had only been on the hormones for two weeks so my body hadn’t completely acclimated to it.

Holy double dogs!!!!  This was last summer. A full year after surgery. A full year after being on the hormones. All I can say is Holy Fuck!! The boobs are not the only thing growing like gang busters.

As of this past week at the doc, I have topped off at 210. Two-fucking-TEN. Here’s what two-fucking-ten looks like:

Kinda makes you feel like you’re watching the weigh in on Biggest Loser, doesn’t it??

Now, you may understand the “pit of despair” comment. Because I do feel a little despair with the damage done to my body. I know the genetic potential that I have and that scares the bejeesus out of me. I look at my body and I see myself sliding into that genetic potential very easily. And it scares the shit out of me! As it is…two-fucking-ten! That’s what I weighed when I delivered Michelle!!!!!  And that was almost 21 years ago. I swore I would never go back there. And here I am. Right back there. And it feels horrible. And it sucks. HARD!

I hope that my muscles remember what to do when I’m finally able to put in a full-on workout. We shall see. I’m nearing 50. Maybe I’m not supposed to look like that all the way up there anymore. But I’ve got to try. I will be posting progress reports come March when I’m able to (hopefully) do whatever kind of workout I want.

In the meantime….

Anybody got a peanut?

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