January 27, 2014
My appointment with the diabetes educator came around before I knew it and suddenly I was thrust into the world of carb counting and GI highs and lows. It was so confusing and so hard to get my head around. I won’t go into details, but the basic gist of it is I had to do some major changes to my diet. I had no idea exactly how much sugar I had been eating. It’s a wonder I didn’t look like a giant chocolate crackle. Actually I kind of did a bit, around the middle.
I was also shown how to do finger prick blood tests, as I would have to start doing these now a few times a day. They hurt a little, but I think when you just know you have to do it, it just makes it a bit easier and you get through it. I bought a glucometer and from that point on started my new life as a responsible diabetic.
I got a copy of the Diabetes handbook and familiarised myself with some of the recipes in it. The great, great news was that I could still have a wine now and then. Just not wash a whole block of Cadbury’s Caramello and three packets of marshmallows down with it. Maybe a few carrot sticks and some hommus instead. Given that I didn’t have to be completely booze free the journey ahead seemed less and less daunting and well, less boring.
I thought about what the future held if I did this, and what it held if I didn’t and resolved to give it all I had for 12 months. I wanted to see what the difference would be in that time.
The next time I saw Trent I had him weigh and measure me. The numbers weren’t pretty. But then neither was Trent so I decided it was his entire fault. I really was a beach ball with legs though. I’m not a very tall girl, and my waist circumference was far over average. Actually it was in the dangerous range. There was no hiding it now these numbers were in my face. Reality had slapped me hard. Now it was my turn to slap it back.
Our next workout was about to start. It was time for some Trent torture! I was surprised to see that it was just a tiny bit easier than last time. This time Trent made me get on a bike. It was a stationary bike and wasn’t actually going to go anywhere, so I couldn’t fall off it. But it was still the devils work and I was soon sweating and panting like a walrus with bronchitis. After the bike Trent got me to do some weights. Then he told me to do a lunge. Now, I don’t know if any of you playing along at home have ever tried a lunge, but unless you have some actual working and functional muscles in your legs, they’re bloody hard.
What really surprised me the most is that I just couldn’t do it. I bent my knee and dropped down about three inches but I could not go any further without feeling like I was going to fall to the floor. It was official. I was weak. I had very little functional muscle except for that which could help me do basic things like stand, sit and walk. Trent was surprised by my lack of strength and told me that of all his clients, I was probably the weakest when it came to legs. He wasn’t being mean, just truthful. I told Trent that this is because my boyfriend Ryan Gosling usually carries me everywhere and I just don’t need to walk. Trent eyed me suspiciously and seemed to have trouble believing my story.
Suddenly Trent said there was something he wanted to talk to me about. Something that would make me or break me, thrill me or terrify me. I told him I was married and my Husband would never agree to it! Trent gave me that look again, stuttered, turned a shade darker than beetroot and continued telling me what he wanted to talk about. After what he said I went with ‘break’ and ‘terrify.’ But, I couldn’t help but get very excited too!
Next week Jen signs her life away.
March 31, 2014
March 16, 2014
February 17, 2014