If you saw me at my kids’ Christmas parties mid-December, you might be surprised to find out I’ve lost a bowling ball since then.
Not an actually black round thing that you throw down the lane at a bunch of pins. Nope.
I’ve lost the equivalent of a bowling ball.
At this point, I’m not sure whether it’s the start of a very long journey, the midway point on a short trip, or something else altogether.
For right now, I’ll just say that I’ve managed to lose ten entire pounds of fat as I worked on recovering from knee surgery. I launched into round two of physical therapy with everything I possibly could and it’s had some unexpected blessings. Why? Because I don’t do I can’t.
Since I know I’m not alone (hopefully) in dropping a few pounds at the beginning of the year, I thought I’d share a few of the more amusing aspects of my adventure.
What happens when I lose 10 pounds?
The girls are smaller. I climbed on the treadmill earlier this week and realized they were bouncing around INSIDE the bras. (Yes, that’s plural. It takes two bras to keep the girls from bouncing around when I’m sweating.)
I had to give up my favorite pj’s. This particular pair of pajamas should have been thrown in the rag pile about six months ago. They were comfy, especially with the worn out elastic. Last night, the waistband slid gently over my hips and landed on the floor as I walked. It wasn’t some kind of deliberate strip tease (not in those things) but it was pretty funny.
I can touch my toes. Part of what I’ve had to work on in rehab is regaining flexibility. For the first time in months I can actually tie my own shoes while they are on my feet. Even more exciting? I can shave my own legs in the shower. (Why is it no one prepared me for that little detail of recovering from knee surgery?)
My kids are fascinated with planking. I’ve been at it a month and I can just now lift my whole body up and hold it for twenty seconds. It’s harder than it looks, and I used that to my advantage. I bet my kids that I could outlast them in planking. I won, but now they’re determined to beat me.
I’m obsessed with bpm. Beats per minute (bpm) matters when I’m on a stationary bike. Right now, spending at least 30 minutes a day on that silly bike is the only way I escape the knee pain thing. When I have the right songs, the time flies. When I don’t, it feels like 30 minutes of pure torture.
I look better without that bowling ball.
My knee isn’t all better. By the end of the day it still hurts and swells from time to time. I still don’t have the same range of motion in both legs. I don’t have the strength or stamina that I need to keep up with my kids.
That means for the next few months I’ll continue to be spending over an hour a day rehabbing it. I’m hopeful I can lose a second bowling ball.