Dr. U went over my latest labs, my A1c is at 11.4. Disappointing. After getting it down to 7.2 just over a year ago, here we are again. Humalog increased to 20 units before breakfast, 28 units (each) at lunch and dinner. Scale has gone from 1 additional unit for every 25 points over 150 to 1 additional unit for every 20 points over 150 before each meal. Lantus is on the upswing as well – 30 units morning and bedtime. We are going to discuss adding yet another injection medicine – Victoza
Yet here I sit writing this drinking a glass of coke and eating pizza for dinner. I deserve to die via the slow diabetes death spiral because I have zero self control and no motivation to try to exercise. My rower is sitting in the front room right next to the arc trainer and the set of dumbbells. M is running 20+ miles daily and I’m sitting here swigging soda and eating junk food. I also deserve every side-eye glance of disdain and disbelief I get from his old running friends. I’m such an embarrassment.
That was an entry from my personal journal dated May 7, 2015. From where I am sitting right now, it’s painful to look back and to read.
In another 3 weeks M and I would be signing up for gym membership again. It would be another month after that before J’s then-manager would get in touch with me about personal training. Because both the membership and fitness managers in 2015 have moved on to other clubs or ventures, I can be truthful in saying they let me down. The membership manager told me he would have J call me, and it would be another 3 weeks before the fitness manager reached out about scheduling. With the confidence I now possess, I would have been far more assertive and contacting her rather than waiting and burying my head in the sand about getting started. But this is now, that was then. My expectations of painful, awkward meetings and crashing and burning in 3 sessions was profound and not a venture I was eager to begin. It shows in my response to her, that while justified and measured, is still sort of passively-aggressively telling her she dropped the ball and that I am not happy about it. I ended up apologizing, because if I am going to complain about something, I am typically far more direct and factual about it. My doom-and-gloom pessimism and anxiety about trying to work with a trainer had me in its thrall.
What a difference 2 years and a lot of time spent in the gym toiling at my Lists.
It has been a busy week, my Thursday recap still languishing in my drafts folder. I took a couple of days off from the office and was busy being leisurely with other things. Since I nearly always take the same couple, few days off each year to celebrate my birthday, I like looking back at what I was thinking or feeling or writing about in my private journal, assuming I took the time for an entry.
The improvement in my self-criticism and viewpoint is almost impossible for me to read. Because I thought I was doing so well at that point. To be fair to me, I was doing well enough at that point. I had nothing else to compare to it and no particular reason to feel like I could ever do or be more.
Life is still imperfect with so much room for improvement. But what I thought about me then, what I think is possible for me now – lightyears of difference. I have had to work so hard to like myself, to not compare and highlight all the faults and ways I fall short when compared to other people. What I think and how I feel changes as the days pass. Maybe it’s just maturity, or the change in prioritizing myself and my needs. No matter what the rhyme or reason, I am grateful to be standing here and looking backward at who I was and the real positives in the quality of my thoughts and behaviors.
I have come a long way. And my personal yellow brick road continues to stretch out in front of me into infinity.
And now I am off to the gym to pursue a List of the day, and to make myself do some push-ups. Arch nemesis will only be conquered with time and practice, probably A LOT more practice. And I remain ridiculously excited about the idea.