The thrill of lawn maintenance

Not something that would normally float my boat but…

If you’ve read some previous posts then you know that this Graves ‘thingy’ has badly affected my muscle strength.  I’m two weeks in to a supervised training programme including weights training and while it’s early days, I’m remembering how good it is to feel fit and strong and looking forward to achieving some goals.

Yesterday I decided to re-attempt trimming the lawn.  The last time, I could barely lift the machine thingy…but this time managed to give the lawn a nice little hair cut, all within about ten minutes (it’s only a small patch) and without once having to stop in agony.  Afterwards, I went for a forty minute hike to and from the supermarket, carrying two heavy-ish bags home with me, up and down hills etc.  Ordinarily I would drive 2 minutes to get a litre of milk!  Now, my arms are a little sore today, but in that “I feel like I did something good” kind of way.  And last night I slept like a baby sans any kind of chemical aid…something I almost never do especially on a Sunday night.

I have been a little bad this week in terms of regularly taking my neomercazole.  I guess this is the danger in feeling better…without being overly symptomatic its easy to forget those two little pills every morning.  As I understand it, neomercazole (carbimazole) has a fairly long ‘hanging around time’ in the body so hopefully the odd inadvertant day off schedule is no big disaster?

Sticking to a fairly strict nutritional plan most of the time (more protein, less carbs, eat more often) but no apparent weight loss yet.   If things don’t start to shift soon I guess I may have to redefine what most of the time means, to all of the time (and even when I’m not ‘on plan’ I’m quite cautious).  The seasons are changing and nothing fits so hopefully I’ll start to see some improvement before I have to go buy a whole new wardrobe!  I love shopping but it’s not that satisfying when you have to keep going up sizes!

The only symptom worth getting and I didn’t get it

I’m talking about ‘unexplained weight loss’.  And I’m only being slightly facetious.

Instead, I’ve had weight gain.  40lbs of it.   And the explanation is pretty clear.  I’ve been eating as if it were an Olympic sport and I’m the gold medal hope of a nation.  And not just eating, but eating food I previously didn’t consider to be actual food.  Like frozen crumbed chicken (not eaten until 30+ minutes in the oven of course…I’m not that pathetic!) or muffins (which I could never understand as a breakfast food…it’s cake people!).  The sorts of things I would previously have avoided like anything.  And it’s not that I don’t understand nutrition.  In fact I’ve studied physiology and nutrition at College so I’m hardly ignorant about the composition of food.  The endocrinologist did say that with treatment hopefully my appetite would normalise.  I’m just not sure she understands how committed I’ve been to abnormalising that part of my lifestyle and how hard it’s going to be to bring it under control!

When I was given the Graves diagnosis (made all the more complicated by the fact that I was stacking on, not taking off, weight) I think I subconsciously took that as the OK to start shovelling all manner of crap into my mouth.  If I’m sick anyway, and I can’t control it, why bother looking after myself?  And exercise?  Well that wasn’t realistic given the muscular pain, the shortness of breath, the palpitations.  And so I ate, and didn’t move and a few months later I’m bursting out of my clothes whilst people look at me with one eyebrow dubiously raised as I say “No really, my thryoid is too fast”.

I went to a family funeral last month and saw some relatives I haven’t seen in years.  Some may remember that one of my sisters has cancer.  Physically, she’s doing well (mentally has up and down days) and looks pretty good, or at least a lot better than someone with her troubles should look.  We nearly pee’d our pants laughing when we realised everyone at the funeral would be looking at the two of us and muttering “She doesn’t look like she’s got cancer.  And the other one…look at how fat she is….she can’t possibly be hyperthyroid.”  Gotta laugh I suppose.

As of yesterday I’ve committed to the next few months with a personal trainer.  I’ll see her three times a week (2 x light cardio, 1 x weights plus ‘homework’) and she’ll monitor my food intake.  At regular intervals we’ll assess progress.  Even if I don’t lose stacks of weight, hopefully I can regain strength (last night, 5 girlie push ups were all I could manage and this is after years of being able to give 20 or 50 man style push ups no problem) and motivation to have better general health.  I want to turn that heavy ‘blech’ feeling into ‘feeling pretty good’.

My trainer is a petite blond (aren’t they all) with a perky disposition (hey, you can do it!) and she’s so used to pep talking that even her normal conversation sounds like yelling.  I’ve told her about the Graves, told her I’ll complain and moan all the way, but to ignore me for the most part and keep me on the straight and narrow.  It’s not a cheap commitment and I know I’m lucky I can afford this little kickstart.  I see this as an investment into a better future hence why I can justify the expense.

I called my friend about the ‘contest’ and told him I wasn’t weighing in this week (he answered “Oh thank god!  I’ve been a pig!”) but told him about my new commitment.  In order to win a $150 voucher I’m going to spend much, much more than that.  He completely misunderestimates just how competitive I can be!

Has anyone else stacked on the lbs and kgs with Graves?  How did you handle it?

R xo