The inner thoughts of the North American Maggie

It's been a tough week, with a lot of time spent on my Pity Pot. My knee isn't healing as well as I'd like, and after last weekend's performances, it's actually gotten worse. The work is really hard - both at physical therapy and at home - and I'm not sure I'm seeing progress. This makes me sad. I want to feel better. I don't expect the knees of a 20 year old, but maybe 30? 35?

Anyway, on top of all that, photographs were taken at the two performances I was in last weekend. I am in several of them, and there isn't a single one that makes me happy. I feel like I am the fattest, ugliest person in every room, no matter where I go, and now there is photographic evidence to support my theory.

I've never been what I call "traditional pretty" ... but I didn't see myself the way these photos show me, either. I look like an ugly man in drag. It's sad.

So I shed a few tears, and then just came around to accepting it. If that's what I look like, well, fine. I'll be the best damn fat ugly girl you've ever seen!

This morning, I woke up with plenty of time to make it to the gym, and yet I lay there, trying to come up with a good excuse. My knee hurts. I'm tired. One more week won't kill me. And then I remembered that Linda won't be there on Thursday, and I don't want to miss seeing her, and I had already told Simone I would be there ... so I got up, got dressed, and went to the gym.

My friends there love me, and they treat me so nicely. I shared a little bit of what has been troubling me with Linda, Simone and Mama Dee, and they could not have been more wonderfully supportive. I love them. They motivate me just by breathing.

And ya know what? I had a great workout. Before class started, I did my PT on the BOSU - those half-ball thingies that test your balance to the very limit. Yeah, I have to stand on them on my bad leg for as long as I can. Did pretty well, in fact. Then, I did an hour of strength training, followed by an hour of spin. Great classes, tons of calories burned, and a few yummy endorphins to banish the naughty self-talk, if only for a little while.

So that's where I am. Hopeful that I can get over the hump, that my injury will get better and that I will continue to get healthier. And grateful for the people who care about me enough to encourage me to keep going when I'd rather take a nap.