Yes, I think I Am. Or at Least I Want to Be.

Plenty of running going on here at Dogwood Girl. Okay, jogging, if you want to be really accurate. I'm certainly not hauling ass. I just set myself some distances and then my goal is to finish them, no matter how long it takes. I go as fast as my old knees will allow me to go.

And my knees are feeling the longer distances, the constant beating they take when I am out for more than an hour. Mentally, I feel great. Cardiovascularly, awesome. But those poor knees are taking a hit because of my weight. I have been trying to lose the weight for . . .well, years. I don't have unrealistic expectations that I will be my 16-year old self, but I would like to get faster. And that is what it comes down to - I will lose this weight. Interestingly, what has pushed me over the edge is not what drives most women I know to lose weight. It will not be vanity, or the desire to look better in my clothes. It will not even be that I want to be healthier, although all of those things would be nice. It will be that I do not like to lose, and God damn it, I want to be faster.

I know everyone is sitting there saying, well, why are you such a fat ass? Why don't you just cut back on what you are eating? Well, I am doing that, but it is harder for me than other people, because I've pretty much fucked my metabolism all to hell with my PCOS. But I am going to do it. And then I am going to be faster. I'm not giving up. I am tired of running, farther and longer, and not getting any faster. I'm tired of not seeing results.

I had a little reward yesterday, though. I had my blood pressure taken at my annual Gynecological exam. The nurse looked surprised after taking it.

I said, "What? Was it bad?" and she said, "No, 80 over 50 is really good. Are you an athlete?" "No," i said, "but I run pretty often."

But in my head, I said Yes. Yes, I am.

Now They Tell Me

That ice cream increases fertility.

Too late for me to take advantage of that now, as we have hit the end of our childbearing phase of this life. But couldn't I find this out back in 2002 or so, when we were having a little difficulty figuring out why we weren't conceiving? I must note here that our "battle" with infertility was not fought for years upon years, that many people I know have dealt with infertility obstacles much greater than mine, but that doesn't make it any less painful when you are in the throes of the despair and suspense and depression that difficulty conceiving brings.

In all seriousness, I don't think the ice cream would have regulated my whacked hormones, the ones that made my periods do strange things, like not show for three months and make me think I was pregnant, or that made all my exercise and following Weight Watchers to a T be for naught - I still did not lose any weight and wondered what in the hell was wrong with me? I sat around thinking, "Holy shit. I am not only never going to have children, but I am going to be a hairy, menstruation-fucked, hormonal fat ass, too!"

My Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome (PCOS) will not be cured by ice cream, unfortunately. The only thing that cures it? Exercise and diet: "lifestyle changes" if you will, and those just aren't as damn fun as ice cream. But then, who needs ice cream, when I have two lovely children (a complete set!) and the possibility of being thin again.