Last weekend I finally got my shit together and was starting to really feel like myself. And in a quick flash it was lost. Well, at least part of it was lost. My big plan had me extremely excited. I was going to resume running after quite a long hiatus. But more than that, I was going to start walking after work–something I absolutely adore. It’s the best way I know besides yoga to decompress and let my anxiety roll off of me. It used to be that I’d go for a quick walk after work and then do a few minutes of yoga before beginning to get dinner ready. Ah, my old life. Feels like some lost love affair right now.
Last Saturday, I finally got around to attending a circuit class at Rock Bottom Gym. I bid on a 10 session package at a silent auction back in December and won. When we were in the process of moving, I noticed that the package expired–and soon: May, 22 to be exact. So I got on the blower (Kinky Friedman anybody?) and got the info from the owner over at the gym. He thought N and I would fit in with the 8:30am Saturday class (better than the 6am Thursday class). Great. At 8am last Saturday, it didn’t feel so great but we went anyway. It was a good workout. I was mindful of my sketchy right knee the whole time and did my best not to do what I usually do and just work through the pain. I was damn proud of myself, too. I thought, hey, I’m 36, I’m getting to be more mature about these kinds of things. I don’t have to compete with every damn person in this class (a class they’d been taking for 9 weeks by the way). What a relief!
I didn’t think too much about it except to complain a little that my hammies were really sore right after the workout. That meant I did something good, right? Pump those legs up! I even committed to not doing anything else but stretching for the rest of the day–another gold star for me!
Sunday we took a long hike (well, sort of long–about an hour) around our property and it was gorgeous. Around 6pm I was bustling around the house and mentally going through the list of things to do before dinner as I was walking across the living room floor.
And then it happened.
I wish I could tell you what exactly happened. The best way I can describe it is to say that in an instant, I knew there was something significantly wrong with my right knee. It felt both tight and wobbly at the same time. Even so, I thought, ok, let’s ice and elevate and I’ll be cool in the morning.
It was less than cool. The worst part is that it seems to be getting progressively worse and I finally broke down yesterday and got a knee brace. They let me hobble out of the store wearing it. Here’s how much a baby I am. We stopped by Home Depot to get more soil for N’s Earthboxes and I refused to wait in the car. I mean, I kind of had a tantrum. I told him there is no way I’m sitting in this damn car. Either I’m going to walk around the parking lot or stump around the Depot with him. He chose the Depot option. The brace made me feel like a bionic woman of sorts. Nicely supported but still feeling freakish.
Apparently, my constitution is such that if I do not have the ability to freely be in motion, I am a raging bitch. Poor N. He has put up with whining, bitching and general pouting all week long.
I made a decision yesterday. Because I know that this will heal at some point, I need to focus on anything and everything good. For the love of god, I have my health and for right now, that has to be good enough. Looking back on the last year, I realize that I’ve been in constant motion–physically and mentally–and I’m exhausted. Maybe this is the universe’s way of making me slow down. Or it could be an old friend, Frank, who gave me that advice more than a decade ago, karmically intervening. Whatever or whoever it is, I’ve got no choice but to listen. I’m a captive audience of one. And I’m slowing the ef down (as Frank would say).
How do you slow down when you realize you are caught up in the chaos?