On being old and fat, and on bananas

I have been pregnant a lot recently.  And though the end result is so very worth it, I can't say there is much about actual pregnancy that I enjoy.  I don't glow so much as glower.  And more than six months after Z's birth, I still revel in my current, non-gestating state.

I was particularly looking forward to shedding all my baby weight.  When I became pregnant with Natasha, I was at my lowest weight since starting college, thanks to the Couch to 5k program.  Eight months later, I was a full 50 pounds heavier (how this happened when I spent the first three months of pregnancy throwing up four times a day, and the last three months not eating after 5 p.m. because of killer acid reflux, is still a mystery to me).  And then I got pregnant again without losing all of it first.  Now, I have about 25 pounds to lose.

So, I started C25K again in early January.  It was going well - I was running three times a week and taking long stroller walks at least two days a week.  I didn't even really have to count calories, and I started losing slowly and sensibly.

But then I busted my toe.  The little one on my left foot.  Insignificant, really, as far as toes go, but I couldn't wear shoes, even my sneakers, without pain.  How did I bust it?  I dropped the second seat of my double stroller on it.

Yep.

Anyway, that put me out of running commission for awhile.  And then, about six weeks later, just as I was starting to feel better, I tweaked my right knee.  I have no idea how I did it.  I don't even know what's wrong with it.  Neither does the med unit.  Their best guess is a microscopic tear somewhere in there.  Not much I can do but take it easy.  And maybe cut a few calories (but not too many since I'm nursing - ugh).  But definitely no running for awhile.

That's where the getting old part comes in.  About 11 years ago, I noticed that injuries were taking longer to heal, that my body wasn't as resilient as it once had been.

That is when I developed my Banana Theory of the human body.

It goes like this: We are all like bananas.  Before we turn 22, we are green bananas (1-4 on the illustration above).  Not at our full potential, still growing, and there isn't much that will hurt us.  You can hurl a green banana at the floor and it will bounce slightly and then lie there, unbruised, unblemished.

At 22, we are just-yellow, perfectly ripe bananas, like 5 above.  The inside is in peak condition, and the outside is still pretty sturdy.

But that perfect state does not last long - neither in bananas, nor in people. 

By 23, we are bananas that have become just a bit overripe, like #6.  From there, like bananas, we develop soft spots, bruises, etc.  See #7.  And we all know bananas get worse from there.  So I won't extrapolate to the end - it's depressing.  But you get the idea.

Bananas.