Let me first say that this is not meant to be a cautionary tale, but instead, a hopeful one, particularly for anyone reading this who is struggling with size-related mobility issues. Some of you already know this story and have heard me yammer on about how much I love my pool workouts ad nauseam, so apologies for any repetitiveness (and for the length of this post, too). I fully admit that I sound like a total Kool-Aid drinker when it comes to the benefits of aqua exercise, particularly for the super-sized, so just bear with me, please, and you'll see why. 
So, a little backstory, for perspective. I'm 5'11", 38 years old, most definitely "super-sized" and have been for many years. Despite my size, I actually experienced few physical difficulties due to my weight until about 50 lbs. and two years ago. At about that time something very traumatic happened in my life, and I went deep into survivor/just-trying-to-cope mode, where my eating and activity habits changed for the worse and I failed to pursue medical treatment for ensuing medical conditions as I slowly but steadily added pounds to my already fairly maxed-out frame. My knees grew painful and creaky, I injured my right knee in a fall, I had painful plantar fasciitis flareups in both feet, an old lower back injury (ruptured lumbar disk) flared back up, causing tremendous weakness in my lower back and ensuing "stooped" posture, which then caused my calf muscles to tighten up horribly to the point of constant pulling and even tearing injuries. Even with all that, though, I didn't go see a doctor for help. I simply did not possess the emotional strength at the time to deal with doctors, or changing my lifestyle in order to take better care of myself, so I stuck my head in the sand and plodded on, knowing full well the time would come where I would no longer be able to. That time came at Christmastime 2008, when I tripped in my kitchen. I had already planted my left foot down on the floor, and it remained pointing one way while my body launched in another direction. I heard a loud and disgusting ripping/popping sound come from my left knee, and I instantly knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that my life had just changed, forever. It had, but not in the awful way I'd imagined, thankfully. We'll get to that, though.
After establishing that I could still put weight on the knee and walk, I still didn't go see a doctor; and in fact, I did something even more stupid. I knew that I needed to ice, elevate, and rest, and unfortunately, I took the rest part far too much to heart, because, well, my knee hurt like a bitch and I didn't want to walk on it! I now know that while you do have to rest an injury, it is truly frightening how quickly muscle mass is lost when activity level is dramatically and suddenly reduced. By the time my knee had healed a bit, I was as weak as a kitten. Simply walking from one room to another had become an exhausting and, with my bad back/knees/calves, an incredibly painful task. I felt like I had to take a nap after getting dressed in the morning, I was in such a compromised state. I couldn't walk without the aid of a cane - not a supercool cane with a sword hidden it, an ultra-sturdy cane with a four-pronged base. All this isn't not meant to garner sympathy or even a Lifetime TV movie offer, but I wanted to make it clear how bad things were, in case there's someone reading this who has mobility issues and is thinking, "Well, sure, but she can't have been in as much discomfort as I am." Maybe not, but maybe so.
In February I finally bit the bullet and called a local doctor and made an appointment. The poor doctor was so overwhelmed by my laundry list of issues, I couldn't help but feel sorry for him. He prescribed a couple of pain medications I ended up not using, but he also referred me to a physical therapy/rehab place for treatment, specifically for aqua therapy - a course of physical therapy comprised of stretching, exercising, and resistance/strength-building exercises in the pool. I was disappointed, to say the least. I like swimming, but the idea of having to drive half an hour each way and deal with a locker room and wet swimsuits and chlorine and just everything, ick. I just knew I was going to hate it, but I didn't see any alternatives, so I went. And I went and I went and I went, three times a week for 2 hours a session, for two months. It was beyond tiring, and more days than not I limped out of there crying and not sure I was going to make it to my car. It was the hardest work I've ever done, physically, and I had to be mentally tougher than I'd ever dreamed, just to keep going. But the results came, slowly but surely. I built up muscles around my knees to better support movement there. I built up my core and upper back and shoulder muscles, to better support my lower back. I actually have biceps now, beneath all my arm fat (the first time I felt them I was like, "oh, crap, now I've got a tumor!", it'd been so long since I'd felt an honest to god gun on myself). I gradually stretched out my calf muscles so I could move without terror of ripping something in there, yet again. I built up my endurance so I can do minor everyday tasks like grocery shopping again. All the while I was in PT, I knew that my eventual goal was to get out of the pool without using my cane as an additional support (damn that steep top step, anyway!), and I was finally able to do that, after two months. Honestly, I felt like Rocky Balboa at the top of those steps, after my one stupid pool step! (And more than a few times I caught myself quietly humming "Eye of the Tiger" to myself while I swam my laps after doing my exercise reps. Hi, I'm Carrie and I'm a total dork.)
Anyway, after making sufficient progress, I was discharged from PT, but very fortunately for me, the same place offers open swim to everyone for a monthly fee, so I've continued going and working out on my own, 4-5x per week, and I will continue with this for as long as they'll have me, because much to my astonishment, I absolutely love doing it, and you just can't argue with the results, and that's why I'm now an annoyingly constant pool testifier. I really hate exercise, and have for as long as I've been fat. That whole "exercise high" business has always been a myth for me, and my god. I don't think most people really grasp how incredibly difficult it is for a supersized person to perform most kinds of exercise. I mean, honestly. Try strapping on 3 or 400 extra pounds and see how good you feel about taking a walk or doing an exercise tape. It's more difficult than most people can even begin to imagine. And top it off with an existing injury, and forget about it. It's just not going to happen - for me, anyway. The beauty of exercising in the pool is that water is the great equalizer. You can exercise and work your body and your heart without feeling like you're about to die, or even just hurt yourself (a major fear for us extra-large people). And now that I've found something that I can do without great discomfort, I'm rediscovering a connection between my mind and body that I haven't felt since I was an athlete in high school. I remember now that pleased sense of coordination when my brain tells my body to do something, and it does, with great response and precision. I remember this feeling of being in control of my movements, and moving smoothly and gracefully, with ease and pleasure. It feels so good, it's become almost addictive to me. Weekends kind of bum me out now because the pool isn't open, and I find myself looking forward to Monday morning, so I can go slip back into the water and reconnect with my body and do something kind for myself once again.
One important thing I want to mention is that back in February when I started this oddyssey of mine, I vowed to myself that I would lose weight, that the key to my feeling better and healing was for me to lose weight. Well, I have lost a bit of weight, but nothing dramatic. It's the strength, flexibility and endurance I've built over the past few months that have really made the difference for me, I feel absolutely certain. I say this because in terms of weight loss, maybe you should, and maybe you shouldn't. I don't know, and we can't debate that here. I do know, however, that some people don't want to, or more frequently, can't, so please believe me when I tell you that you can help yourself to feel better without focusing solely on your weight. I did. So please, please, please, if you are struggling with an injury or your mobility isn't what you'd like it to be, please consult with your doctor and see what you can do for your strength, flexibility, and endurance. It will help you no matter what you weigh. If you have any kind of arthritis, your doctor will probably be happy to refer you for aqua physical therapy, or if that's not an option, most YMCA's offer aqua exercise classes, some even focusing on managing arthritis. It's definitely worth going to something supervised for a while first, if at all possible, to make sure you're moving your body safely and effectively while you learn the ropes. But this is something that we superfatties can do, hallelujah! Just please don't wait as long as I did to seek medical help, but if you do, know that you're not too far gone to feel better. I'm living proof of that, I believe.
So that's pretty much my story, an ongoing one. I still consider myself "in recovery". I'm very much a work in progress and still have a long way to go in terms of how I want to feel physically. My back is still not as strong as I'd like, my endurance is still not good, my knees have good and bad days, and my calves are still tighter than I'd like, but it's night and day when compared to how I felt just a few short months ago. There are small reminders to me everywhere of how much progress I've made. Every time I get up out of a chair without gripping on to something to pull myself up, when I do my grocery shopping without crying from the pain in my calves, when I get out of my car on one leg, like a normal person. Every day, reminders that I'm better than I was a few months ago, and that's what matters. I'm no one special, just your everyday fat girl. But I did this for myself. Anyone can.
Thanks for reading.
So, a little backstory, for perspective. I'm 5'11", 38 years old, most definitely "super-sized" and have been for many years. Despite my size, I actually experienced few physical difficulties due to my weight until about 50 lbs. and two years ago. At about that time something very traumatic happened in my life, and I went deep into survivor/just-trying-to-cope mode, where my eating and activity habits changed for the worse and I failed to pursue medical treatment for ensuing medical conditions as I slowly but steadily added pounds to my already fairly maxed-out frame. My knees grew painful and creaky, I injured my right knee in a fall, I had painful plantar fasciitis flareups in both feet, an old lower back injury (ruptured lumbar disk) flared back up, causing tremendous weakness in my lower back and ensuing "stooped" posture, which then caused my calf muscles to tighten up horribly to the point of constant pulling and even tearing injuries. Even with all that, though, I didn't go see a doctor for help. I simply did not possess the emotional strength at the time to deal with doctors, or changing my lifestyle in order to take better care of myself, so I stuck my head in the sand and plodded on, knowing full well the time would come where I would no longer be able to. That time came at Christmastime 2008, when I tripped in my kitchen. I had already planted my left foot down on the floor, and it remained pointing one way while my body launched in another direction. I heard a loud and disgusting ripping/popping sound come from my left knee, and I instantly knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that my life had just changed, forever. It had, but not in the awful way I'd imagined, thankfully. We'll get to that, though.
After establishing that I could still put weight on the knee and walk, I still didn't go see a doctor; and in fact, I did something even more stupid. I knew that I needed to ice, elevate, and rest, and unfortunately, I took the rest part far too much to heart, because, well, my knee hurt like a bitch and I didn't want to walk on it! I now know that while you do have to rest an injury, it is truly frightening how quickly muscle mass is lost when activity level is dramatically and suddenly reduced. By the time my knee had healed a bit, I was as weak as a kitten. Simply walking from one room to another had become an exhausting and, with my bad back/knees/calves, an incredibly painful task. I felt like I had to take a nap after getting dressed in the morning, I was in such a compromised state. I couldn't walk without the aid of a cane - not a supercool cane with a sword hidden it, an ultra-sturdy cane with a four-pronged base. All this isn't not meant to garner sympathy or even a Lifetime TV movie offer, but I wanted to make it clear how bad things were, in case there's someone reading this who has mobility issues and is thinking, "Well, sure, but she can't have been in as much discomfort as I am." Maybe not, but maybe so.
In February I finally bit the bullet and called a local doctor and made an appointment. The poor doctor was so overwhelmed by my laundry list of issues, I couldn't help but feel sorry for him. He prescribed a couple of pain medications I ended up not using, but he also referred me to a physical therapy/rehab place for treatment, specifically for aqua therapy - a course of physical therapy comprised of stretching, exercising, and resistance/strength-building exercises in the pool. I was disappointed, to say the least. I like swimming, but the idea of having to drive half an hour each way and deal with a locker room and wet swimsuits and chlorine and just everything, ick. I just knew I was going to hate it, but I didn't see any alternatives, so I went. And I went and I went and I went, three times a week for 2 hours a session, for two months. It was beyond tiring, and more days than not I limped out of there crying and not sure I was going to make it to my car. It was the hardest work I've ever done, physically, and I had to be mentally tougher than I'd ever dreamed, just to keep going. But the results came, slowly but surely. I built up muscles around my knees to better support movement there. I built up my core and upper back and shoulder muscles, to better support my lower back. I actually have biceps now, beneath all my arm fat (the first time I felt them I was like, "oh, crap, now I've got a tumor!", it'd been so long since I'd felt an honest to god gun on myself). I gradually stretched out my calf muscles so I could move without terror of ripping something in there, yet again. I built up my endurance so I can do minor everyday tasks like grocery shopping again. All the while I was in PT, I knew that my eventual goal was to get out of the pool without using my cane as an additional support (damn that steep top step, anyway!), and I was finally able to do that, after two months. Honestly, I felt like Rocky Balboa at the top of those steps, after my one stupid pool step! (And more than a few times I caught myself quietly humming "Eye of the Tiger" to myself while I swam my laps after doing my exercise reps. Hi, I'm Carrie and I'm a total dork.)
Anyway, after making sufficient progress, I was discharged from PT, but very fortunately for me, the same place offers open swim to everyone for a monthly fee, so I've continued going and working out on my own, 4-5x per week, and I will continue with this for as long as they'll have me, because much to my astonishment, I absolutely love doing it, and you just can't argue with the results, and that's why I'm now an annoyingly constant pool testifier. I really hate exercise, and have for as long as I've been fat. That whole "exercise high" business has always been a myth for me, and my god. I don't think most people really grasp how incredibly difficult it is for a supersized person to perform most kinds of exercise. I mean, honestly. Try strapping on 3 or 400 extra pounds and see how good you feel about taking a walk or doing an exercise tape. It's more difficult than most people can even begin to imagine. And top it off with an existing injury, and forget about it. It's just not going to happen - for me, anyway. The beauty of exercising in the pool is that water is the great equalizer. You can exercise and work your body and your heart without feeling like you're about to die, or even just hurt yourself (a major fear for us extra-large people). And now that I've found something that I can do without great discomfort, I'm rediscovering a connection between my mind and body that I haven't felt since I was an athlete in high school. I remember now that pleased sense of coordination when my brain tells my body to do something, and it does, with great response and precision. I remember this feeling of being in control of my movements, and moving smoothly and gracefully, with ease and pleasure. It feels so good, it's become almost addictive to me. Weekends kind of bum me out now because the pool isn't open, and I find myself looking forward to Monday morning, so I can go slip back into the water and reconnect with my body and do something kind for myself once again.
One important thing I want to mention is that back in February when I started this oddyssey of mine, I vowed to myself that I would lose weight, that the key to my feeling better and healing was for me to lose weight. Well, I have lost a bit of weight, but nothing dramatic. It's the strength, flexibility and endurance I've built over the past few months that have really made the difference for me, I feel absolutely certain. I say this because in terms of weight loss, maybe you should, and maybe you shouldn't. I don't know, and we can't debate that here. I do know, however, that some people don't want to, or more frequently, can't, so please believe me when I tell you that you can help yourself to feel better without focusing solely on your weight. I did. So please, please, please, if you are struggling with an injury or your mobility isn't what you'd like it to be, please consult with your doctor and see what you can do for your strength, flexibility, and endurance. It will help you no matter what you weigh. If you have any kind of arthritis, your doctor will probably be happy to refer you for aqua physical therapy, or if that's not an option, most YMCA's offer aqua exercise classes, some even focusing on managing arthritis. It's definitely worth going to something supervised for a while first, if at all possible, to make sure you're moving your body safely and effectively while you learn the ropes. But this is something that we superfatties can do, hallelujah! Just please don't wait as long as I did to seek medical help, but if you do, know that you're not too far gone to feel better. I'm living proof of that, I believe.
So that's pretty much my story, an ongoing one. I still consider myself "in recovery". I'm very much a work in progress and still have a long way to go in terms of how I want to feel physically. My back is still not as strong as I'd like, my endurance is still not good, my knees have good and bad days, and my calves are still tighter than I'd like, but it's night and day when compared to how I felt just a few short months ago. There are small reminders to me everywhere of how much progress I've made. Every time I get up out of a chair without gripping on to something to pull myself up, when I do my grocery shopping without crying from the pain in my calves, when I get out of my car on one leg, like a normal person. Every day, reminders that I'm better than I was a few months ago, and that's what matters. I'm no one special, just your everyday fat girl. But I did this for myself. Anyone can.
Thanks for reading.
