One thing I wanted to write down before I forget it happened was after the Wednesday work out, I was sneezy and kind of flu-ish the next day. Similar to what happened when I accidentally worked out for three hours that one time. Just really run down.
So I worked out again Saturday. Not because I wanted to or felt up to it, but something needed to be done to change the path my body was on. Which was one of sugar supernova explosion and Oompa Loompa salt bloat.
It's funny how I can eat my weight in sugar and it's therapeutic, but then I can barely have any and I feel like I'm being stalked by a ninja named Diabetes. Who wants to do the three year death* move on me.
I don't know.
We had Thai food at a mediocre Thai restaurant. I am super duper salt sensitive anymore and really have to watch salt intake (except for those times I need extra salt to stay upright--I'm just full of contradictions!). I don't feel that I ate all that much, some chicken satay, a few lettuce wraps and some wonton.
Maybe they used MSG or I was reacting to something else in the food? Whatever it was, it compounded the fatigue.
After that, I propped up my bleary eyes to bake cookies and make turtles, which involved heavy sampling of the mini Milky Ways.
At that point, I'd already started drinking lots of water to flush out any extra salt, but the sugar hit me hard for some reason. So I put on some music and bopped around the house while the cookies baked in an effort to sweat it out and give the sugar high something productive to do.
I couldn't do squats as I was still sore from Wednesday. I had changed my squat technique to target my hamstrings better and it was almost too successful. My abs were also pretty sore still as I'd added 10lb weights to my routine. Just because that's what you do when you're chronically ill and haven't worked out in a while, amiright? There's no way that's ever a bad idea!
So between the bopping and a high impact day with no time to rest, by the time it was all over, I had collapsed on the couch. The hubby covered me with blankets and I just lay there for a couple hours, trying to get warm. I was D.O.N.E. Stomach pain and the adrenal gang came to beat me up.
Then I had an asthma attack because surprise! The inhaler was empty and I didn't notice. Who knows how many doses I missed? Check stupid in your dictionary to see a picture of me.
The asthma made it so much easier to swallow a 10mg updose Sunday morning.
*Three year death...maybe I'm mis-remembering the name but it's a sequence of (mythic?) martial arts moves that causes death years later.
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