Strictly speaking, this isn't a running related post. But since I use my body to run (imagine that!), it's related.
I started running after a "gallbladder-less gallbladder attack" (for that whole story, check out this post). In response, I ate better, ran and stayed healthy. Until...
There always seems to be an "until..." doesn't there?
Leading up my vacation in Peru last November, I started eating a little less healthy. I gain a few (like 5) pounds, which in the scheme of things isn't too bad. I ate well on vacation, then the holidays hit. I was feeling great, so I wasn't watching my fat intake. But, oddly enough, I was feeling fine. Occasionally, I'd have a twinge when I was dehydrated, but a glass of water and I was fine.
Then came Tuesday. Mid-sentence, it hit. That ice pick through the lower corner of my right shoulder blade. Another gallbladder attack from my "Zombie Gallbladder". Ok, it's a wake up call, I need to eat better, right? Wednesday through Friday, I mostly did, until the ice cream Friday night (the proceeds went to the PTO). Saturday morning, I'm in pain again, and throwing up, while trying to get two boys out the door for 2 baseball games and swim lessons. Not the best morning.
I'm angry at myself for letting it get this far. I'm upset that it means my diet will never be "normal" again (well, American normal, and I need to remind myself that no one's diet really should be "American normal"). I'm frustrated that I've got that dull ache under my shoulder, and I'm tired and my whole GI system is wonky. I'm annoyed that it means that at least for the rest of the month, I'm back on making "meal variations" since Hubby must have meat at every meal.
I'm also a little peeved that the minor surgery 2 years ago to widen the exit of the common bile duct didn't work. Or maybe it did, and the bile stones are that big already?