April 21: 60 minutes on a stationary bike, resistance upped to 7, just over 15 miles, cooling down afterward for another five minutes at resistance of about 2

Setting the resistance higher helped keep the bike more challenging. I think spin class is also helping me with my more solitary sessions biking. Except I sprint much harder in class than I do when alone.

And no more mystery about the fluid retention & the ballooned-up feeling. (Guess what arrived a little early this month?) I've noticed the cramps go away when I'm exercising, or at least, I never feel them when I'm doing cardio. In my lifetime, I've heard women told to do all kinds of things when they get cramps ranging from 1) lie on a sofa with a heating pad & baby yourself, like an invalid; to 2) take Motrin, suck it up & get on with your life. And so maybe there's also 3) do cardio, at least as a distraction.

Here's my TMI theory, in which you learn more about saef's innards than you ever really wanted to know.

[Warning to those who venture below this line ... TMI ... Female stuff ... Very Female ... Very TMI ....]

[Okay, you asked for it. But this is only-told-at-slumber-parties-type stuff .... saved for close female confidantes ... but I'm on the Internet so you don't know me ;-)]

I have a really, really tilted uterus. Gynos go in there with their gloves on & marvel: "It's like, ah, curled over on itself."

I have always pictured it as being like the glass pipe in the Clorox Liquid Plumr commercial, you know, the one with the extra kink in it, where the, um, stuff collects, as it can't make it all the way down the drain. Hence, the cramping.

My theory is that it takes cardio or Pilates or something to keep my baby-making system doing what it's supposed to during TOM & that exercise is, in effect, my Clorox Liquid Plumr.

See? Yeah, TMI. I warned you.

April 22: 45 minute spin class

Tonight, there I was, stuck in a traffic jam, such as we often have in the New York City suburbs. Cars rolling & stopping all around me. Red tail lights for miles ahead, four lanes messily merging into two. And me already in my gym clothes in the car. (If I change in a ladies' room stall at the office, before getting in my car to go home, I will go to the gym directly, without stopping to run an errand or saying "heck with it" & going home instead.) And watching the minutes tick by, wondering if I'd make it for spin class.

I did.

I remember going into the spin class room last year when no one was there, and looking at one of the bikes, debating whether to take a class. I was doing a lot of time on a stationary bike upstairs, alone, and I wondered if I could keep up with a class full of women. At the same time, I was used to peddling for an hour & the class was only 45 minutes & I wondered if I'd get a good enough workout. So many fears: Afraid that it would be too hard & afraid that it would not be hard enough. Anyway, I looked over a bike. And was so intimidated that there were so damn many dials to adjust on the the thing. Not just the seat height but how far forward it went & the handlebars. And the resistance just had a plus & minus sign, no computerized setting. That bike scared me off, too.

And now I'm a spin class addict.

April 23: 60 minutes on the arc trainer, which I didn't mind getting back on, after taking a break from it for several days.

And a nice NSV last night, which I forgot to mention. It came about because of the persistence of companies keeping one's name on a mailing list, long after the last order. I got a Lane Bryant catalogue in last night's mail & immediately put it out in my building's recycling bin. When I last ordered something from that catalogue, in March 2007, I weighed about 235 pounds. It's 2010 now. They can take my name off their mailing list, don't you think?

April 24: 45 minutes spin class.

And incidentally, about four miles of walking, after dropping my car off at the garage for its annual inspection & then walking back to pick it up.

What a gorgeous day. Lilacs in bloom, azaleas starting to open up and tulips already peeling back their petals. And me on Zyrtec, so my sinuses don't leak like snot-nosed kid's in February.

April 25: 60 minutes swimming class

We practiced freestyle and backstroke, with a little bit of work on the elements of the breast stroke as well. We also drilled with pull buoys and kickboards.

My banged-up right elbow didn't like the back stroke. Something about reaching back overhead and rotating my arm around beneath me was slightly more uncomfortable than with the left uninjured arm. Nevertheless, I continue to drift a little right on the backstroke, rather than left.

Swimming is the hardest form of exercise I do. I am always tense before class, and the time during class passes slowly for me. I've got pretty good endurance on land, but not in the water. When I finish a swimming length, I want to hang on the side of the pool for a few minutes. I am not like this about my other cardio. I'm trying to get better at breathing, as I think that's what holds me back.

And as usual, I have what I call "goggle eyes" after swim class. Something about the suction power of the goggles on my face leaves marks underneath my eyes & makes me look haggard, like death warmed over. Like I need to sleep for about a week to recover.

April 26: 60 minutes arc trainer

I had a doctor appointment before work this morning, or rather, I had the excuse of a morning doctor appointment, which enabled me to get to work a little later than usual. It meant I had some extra time this morning. I decided I'd go to the gym before work, rather than afterward. I love getting my workout done early, rather than late. I feel virtuous all day. Do you remember the old Cream of Wheat commercials, from back in the day? In them, the little boy ate a bowl of wholesome, nourishing Cream of Wheat before setting out for school, and then the bowl hovered over him protectively like an angelic halo (or an alien flying saucer) for the rest of his very active day. Well, I felt like that all day. Like I had a little arc trainer (elliptical-style machine) hovering over my head all day protectively, because like a good little girl I'd gone & gotten in my workout early.

The doctor appointment was with my general practitioner, who hadn't known till then about my accident. I'm not sure he's a very good doctor, at least as far as people skills are concerned. Okay, he's condescending & paternalistic, in the old-fashioned way. He tends to take my blood pressure & blood sugar readings & keep them to himself. Just remarks laconically whether they are "okay" or not. But he loves me in an undemonstrative way for having lost weight. (He really **frightened me** into doing it, if any one person could be said to have motivated me, other than myself. I am a Daddy-pleasing girl at heart.) He seemed sympathetic about the accident, as he's a runner & cyclist, and has nearly been hit by cars on many occasions. But then he proceeded to scold me for not being careful enough. This is so typical of the man. But we've shared so much, watching my weight go down & my med dosages dwindle. I have to forgive him. And anyway he's on my HMO list.

HMO list?

Her Majesty's Obstetrician? No, probably not.
Heavy Metal Outfit? Possibly but unlikely, given what you've said about him.
He-Man Object? I really don't know.

Sorry about this, saef, but you've got me here. I'd google it but I have to turn out the light. It's bedtime here.

Silverbirch, by learning what the acronym "HMO" means, you will have stepped the maze that is the American healthcare system. All Hope Abandon, Ye Who Enter Here.

It's healthcare maintenance organization. Under this system, I selected a primary care physician (my general practitioner). He has the power to refer me to any specialists I need. (Except in the case of accidents, where we can't call him up & interrupt his dinner or theater engagement & ask him what he thinks.) All the doctors that I see must belong to the HMO's network of approved providers; otherwise, I incur additional "out of network" costs beyond a certain point.

So the whole process begins with selecting a general practitioner who's on the HMO's list, and the list can be further narrowed down by whether they are currently accepting new patients & in my case, where their office is located. (I work in one state & live in another; most of the providers in my HMO network are in the state that I work in, not the one I live in.)

My very American healthcare tradeoff here is that my doctor is not ideal, but going to him rather than someone else saves me $$$, and healthcare available through my employer has become increasingly expensive with every passing year. So I stick with the known, more affordable relationship even though there are probably other doctors out there who might be a better match for me personally.

Oh, oh, oh. Yes, I can feel the maze trapping me, even all the way over here. Remarkable, really, that people find a way through.

We are not, of course, without health service difficulties here. But most of it is free, even if it's not instantaneous.

Thank you for giving me this spyhole into how health matters are organised. I'll be watching US healthcare reform with renewed interest now.

April 27: 45 minute spin class, with 15 minute warmup beforehand

This instructor cares very much about proper form on the bike & exhorts us to keep our backs flat, our feet horizontal & arms slightly relaxed. He also has us peddle with one foot, then the other, and try pedaling by lifting rather than stomping down. His sprint intervals are really something. We did 11 consecutive sprint intervals in this class. This guy walks around the class checking you on the bike rather than riding a bike at the head of the class. It's not just his style, it enables another person to get into the class, which generally has a waitlist.

Lady GaGa's and Beyonce's "Telephone" was on the music mix. I think too much about trivial things, and I have been thinking a lot about the relationship portrayed in this song. Is the guy who keeps calling 1) extremely needy, and a pathetic figure who is too weak for the song's strong female narrator; or 2) extremely controlling, someone who likes to keep his girl under surveillance by calling constantly, and the song's narrator is finally rebelling against him.

I think it's the latter, because I want to see it as a song of empowerment, which would be in keeping with Beyonce's Sasha Fierce persona.

Then again, I'm probably overthinking it. It's got a good beat to work out to. And quite an elaborate video.

April 28: 60 minutes on stationary bike, resistance set at 8, about 15.17 miles, five-minute cooldown at about 2

This was at the gym at our office. To save money or something, they've been having the cleaning people come all day long, rather than after hours. Tonight, after my workout, when I was changing out of sweaty gym clothes, I didn't know at first that I wasn't alone. I thought one of the Running Blondes had come back from her foray outside. But then I heard a definitively male whistle start up -- the man was whistling as he began to clean around the corner. I yelled: "Dude! I'm still in here!" And he sputtered apologies & left. This is not my first close call. C'mon, cleaning people. People work out in the gym right after work. Lots of us. Sometimes all the machines are full till nearly 7 pm. Can't they figure out another time to clean the locker rooms?

I am so .... bored ... with being injured. How else to put it? This is lasting so long. My thumb & wrist are definitely getting better, but my elbow is still swollen right at the point on the end & feels lumpy underneath the skin. Like there are big bumps underneath there, in addition to the joint that's so prominent. If I lean on it at the wrong angle, it really hurts. Much worse than a funny-bone tingle. I noticed this on the bike, as I was leaning forward with some weight on my arms. My hand was fine, but my elbow gave me several twinges. It's been 27 days since the accident & I worry: When will this swelling go down?

April 29: 45 minute spin class, with 15 minute warmup beforehand

I saw the orthopedist and he just advised more Motrin for the pain at my wrist -- which he compared to carpal tunnel -- & waiting to see if the swelling on the elbow will go down. He prescribed some physical therapy "because the insurance will pay for it," but also said it might not be necessary. Sounds like it's my decision whether to seek it out. The script is in my purse. I'm thinking about it. Ethically, that's not a good enough reason, to do something just because it will be paid for -- though, of course, I want to do what I can to recuperate back to where I was before the accident.

And other preoccupations: If the weather's good on Saturday, it will be a fine morning for going up to the Rockefeller Preserve & looking for migrating warblers. (I've been hearing what I thought initially were pine warblers at my office & around my apartment building, but now I think we're in the midst of flocks of chipping sparrows moving through.) But I also want to take my usual Saturday morning spin class. How I hate having to choose. Maybe I'll go birding & then do some trail running, if my foot is okay. I'm still having twinges of plantar fasciitis pain, so I wanted to keep biking. (The walk to & from the garage where my car was inspected last Saturday didn't help.) Decisions, decisions. Somehow I feel time in the woods will do me good. But I also want to bike. Damn it. Damn it.

April 30: 60 minutes arc trainer, hill climb setting, resistance at 7

This thing really made me work today, as I bumped up the resistance from 6 to 7. (Of course -- it's because I was wearing the light turquoise exercise pants, which get the most incredibly visible sweat stains all over them.) I couldn't wait for the hour to be over.

I'm more peaceful about tomorrow, as I've got an ingenious solution. If birding goes well, and I'm still in the park later in the morning, I can go to swim class afterward. On Saturday, there's a class identical to my Sunday class, and people often switch from one to the other for make-ups & etc. The community college is fairly near the Rockefeller Preserve. So I would not have to hurry all the way down-county to make the spin class. What a reasonable solution. This is what reasonable people do, who aren't locked into their routine.

And now it's time to close this topic. Whew! I did it. Despite my accident on April Fool's Day, I have exercised every single day in the month of April. And I am on the road to getting back eventually to my regular, pre-accident schedule, with a script for physical therapy in my hand. I did this. It can be done. I can persist through unlucky setbacks. There was no collapse on the couch in self-pity & eating one-pound bags of peanut M&Ms. It really has become a healthy lifestyle & a necessity to me. Thank God. Thanks, 3FC, for allowing me to keep a diary/blog here.

/Signing off.

Saef, congratulations. A great achievement. It's been good to bear witness to your determination.

Have a lovely time bird-watching. Last weekend was one of joy here as I saw the swallows return from southern Africa in numbers. Summer is around the corner.