Or a STOP button....and I'm not even sure that I even have PAUSE.
This is a bit of a problem when it comes to working, talking, fitness, eating, drinking, and well, pretty much everything.
This is a bit of a problem when it comes to working, talking, fitness, eating, drinking, and well, pretty much everything.
For example...when I'm at work, I blow through breaks and keep painting faces and helping people long after my shift has finished...I should really wear a watch, but I just get so stuck into what I do, I keep going. Same goes for talking, I go on and on and absolutely revel in conversation - especially good chats with old friends or new friends that have strong opinions or just anyone who enjoys life and shooting the breeze - dinner parties fly by, as do 3 hour phone calls to Montréal. As for fitness, well, I go all out on that to, when I have a day that I can dedicate to working out, it's not unusual for me to bike to my ninja training, workout with my ninja personal trainer, have a little break and a snack, do a MIJO bootcamp for an hour, then bike home...only to return to yet another gym later that evening to kick pads with a bunch of other taekwondo aficionados. Obviously, eating and drinking are the same...when I'm hungry, I eat (sometimes the wrong things and too much) and when I'm thirsty I drink (also sometimes the wrong things and too much), and I cook and experiment and bake and enjoy restaurants and bars. I am not a half-asser, when I do something, I always use my full ass.
So, when I busted my ACL in taekwondo over a year ago and every doctor I spoke to said SURGERY...I may have freaked out, just a little bit. Okay, no...there is no such thing as a little bit. I fully freaked out (full-assed) - I cried, had a hissy fit, I went silent, I retreated into the dark recesses of my mind, and I panicked. How could I take time off? I have a schedule! I have been working out up to 6 days a week most weeks and following an online eating plan that has me logging everything that goes in my mouth...even the junk...and since June, I've been struggling...bouncing up and down in the 140s and then settling back into the 150s. Which isn't the end of the world, I may have actually even accepted the fact that my body is more comfortable a little heavier. Shock! Horror! But, give up exercise?! NO WAY! How will I be able to de-stress if I can't hit the treadmill and rock out a run with my favourite workout mix blaring in my ears? I can't just turn off, I can't hit stop...not even pause. And then the date was set for surgery. November 25th, 2014.
My injury occurred October 2013, initial diagnosis with sports medicine doctor was in November of 2013, and I finally saw the orthopaedic surgeon in February of 2014, so in June when I was informed surgery would be in November, it seemed so far off that I just put it out of my mind. And like so many other things, November just crept up on me. At 3 months until surgery, I vowed to make a concerted effort to get in the best shape of my life...I even searched online for a 90 day whiteboard calendar. Then again at 2 months until my reconstruction I "recommitted" to getting into shape. At 6 weeks out, I did the same, then 4 weeks, 3, 2, and 1...same deal. Good intentions all of them, and I don't know whether it was fear of surgery that led me to eat the occasional bag of Doritos or hot dog, but for some reason, my eating was way off, though my gym time was not. I still stress eat, even after all this time. Like I said, I don't have an off switch...or a pause button...so I kept training like an athlete. Faced with the impending hospital time, I tried to get rid of the negative and indulged in good exercise, splurged on nutritious food, and let go of the doubts in my mind. What does my yoga teacher call it?! Self-care. I tried that out for a change.
Going into surgery I had a certain confidence about me. After coming out of a very good week of clean eating, optimal exercise, and just enough rest to prepare my body and mind for a routine but fairly involved operation, I took a deep breath, pressed pause...and a little voice in my head told me, "Everything is going to be fine."
And it was.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN4_nQ8Hs5D7QsLKdi45N_qbcdJ9S4VwpfZSYObMQxUE0fzi_vPESd8mn0_K6v2PQXxJAtrGpgM5Y8TpOF9ntr6RlciUe_-Le_T2PO4NfZaWi50xtsRxvLEdzPga3DDYB2sNC0qO1q9d7q/s1600/10365782_10152401092891750_5496485286597021200_n.jpg)
So, when I busted my ACL in taekwondo over a year ago and every doctor I spoke to said SURGERY...I may have freaked out, just a little bit. Okay, no...there is no such thing as a little bit. I fully freaked out (full-assed) - I cried, had a hissy fit, I went silent, I retreated into the dark recesses of my mind, and I panicked. How could I take time off? I have a schedule! I have been working out up to 6 days a week most weeks and following an online eating plan that has me logging everything that goes in my mouth...even the junk...and since June, I've been struggling...bouncing up and down in the 140s and then settling back into the 150s. Which isn't the end of the world, I may have actually even accepted the fact that my body is more comfortable a little heavier. Shock! Horror! But, give up exercise?! NO WAY! How will I be able to de-stress if I can't hit the treadmill and rock out a run with my favourite workout mix blaring in my ears? I can't just turn off, I can't hit stop...not even pause. And then the date was set for surgery. November 25th, 2014.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH2JTfqaTc81SARKA5ASG3Ng7nvHQjvwkLZsKJkdrnjhpL6AOgJTM-cIcY0X2d7bz7E5a_QTOLkzWrSZ7VH-jwUQsFeuagR0ZoKb_khbteUF7HE8owTqlmQFwG6Ny4WHx6OrbK4UyAs3NK/s1600/1557594_10152409440136750_3629831910732932500_n.jpg)
Going into surgery I had a certain confidence about me. After coming out of a very good week of clean eating, optimal exercise, and just enough rest to prepare my body and mind for a routine but fairly involved operation, I took a deep breath, pressed pause...and a little voice in my head told me, "Everything is going to be fine."
And it was.