I was going to come in here and whine like the pissy little bitch that I am about how it hurts to go for a walk. And it does. A lot. Okay, let me whine about that for a paragraph or two...
Like an idiot, I declared that all my 365days photos would be taken "a mile from my house" because, dammit, I want to keep losing weight. Not that I ever expect to be thin again, but I'd like to be described as something other than: "That fat chick with the black hair"... like maybe "that moderately weighted chick with the black hair". Turns out, I can't walk a mile away from my house yet. Nope. I'm doing a half-mile and then walking back, to make a full mile. And in other good news, I can't go two days in a row. So on Day two of the Great One Mile Away Day, I'd already broke two promises I made publicly (and by "publicly", I mean "On Facebook").
I hurt so much the day after I walk that I'm not even putting shoes on my feet. That's it, man. The ren faire has healing powers. Sure, I'd hurt at the end of the day and my feet were screaming a symphony like an out-of-key donkey with someone stepping on his testicles, but I always had fun and still managed to walk back up that damn hill from the tilt yard. Of course, the motivation of seeing my friends and watching the joust was a huge draw. But still... walking on concrete and asphalt is a fuck of a lot worse than the grass and dirt paths at the faire.
Now, onto the new phrase I came up with... I was instant messaging with Shawn and telling him about a trying day with the pain after walking and how I can't even be sure some of this is fibrofuckingmyalgia or not. And I said this:
Fibromyalgia is like a fuck-you cocktail of learn-as-you-go.
There it is... share it at will if you feel the urge. I'm going to go have Oreos for dinner or something because I'm too tired and sore to cook anything.