I spent a good part of Sunday afternoon watching a marathon of the past season of “So You Think You Can Dance”.  Sad statement on my social life?  Not really…although I wasn’t necessarily flooded with other offers.  But after the craziness of last weekend, a severely lacking social calendar was exactly what I needed.

So I danced.  And by that I mean I watched other people dance and wished I were them.  Damn - they were amazing, and as I watched episode after episode after episode, my appreciation for their skill, athleticism, dedication and drive multiplied.

As you know, I’ve been battling with some health issues lately.  I did receive the test results back from my lovely home - blood and saliva - tests (remember that??? good times.)  As suspected, there are issues with my cortisol and other hormone levels, my free T3 is low (meaning the current medication I’m taking is essentially useless) and my thyroid antibodies are way out of whack.  I’m headed to a new doctor today to go over these results and start a new approach to treating all these lovely issues.  I’m told she (the actual doctor) is going to spend a WHOLE hour with me.  I’m not sure how to handle that.  I may cry.

Anyway, the point is, this health wake-up call may have a strange connection with dance.  How is that?  Well, according to my pharmacist (and most likely my doctor today) my chance for living a long, healthy life, rests almost squarely on my shoulders.  Yes, I will need some drugs and supplements…and when they get those right, they will likely make a significant difference, but it appears what I put in my body - nutritionally - will have just as much of an impact.  Looks like eating healthy will no longer be a short-lived guilt trip spurred on by an article in Shape magazine…it could turn my health around.  And I, for one, am ready to take it on.  In fact, in anticipation of today’s appointment, I spent the last week moving in that direction:  staying away from processed foods and refined sugars and carbs…and you know what?  I don’t think it’s just in my head…I’m pretty sure I feel better.  I have more energy.  I even ran a bunch of errands this weekend…with a slight skip in my step!  And my poop looked just like Dr. Oz said it should look (sorry - it did!)  And had you been a fly on my bedroom wall yesterday, you would have seen me rushing in at each “So You Think You Can Dance” commercial break, attempting to replicate a new dance move.  It may not have been pretty, but that’s the most energy I’ve had in months…maybe longer.  So, after this doctor’s appointment, when I’m armed with an hour’s worth of advice, I’ll head off to Whole Foods, spend entirely too much money on a cart-full of groceries, come home and make myself an avocado sandwich on gluten-free bread.  Ah, the life.

And, maybe, just maybe, I’ll Google dance studios in Houston, find the one that looks the least intimidating and, egads, give them a call.

Look for me on the next season of “So You Think You Can Dance” (in the audience).  I’ll be the one with the glowy face and new bod.  And a smile.  A BIG. FAT. FRIGGIN SMILE!

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