Tag Archives for journal

I Used To Be A Runner

I exercised for a few minutes today. It wasn’t very vigorous exercise, but when I finished I felt flushed and my heart rate was elevated. I marveled at how a small amount of physical activity affects me so greatly now in comparison to when I was a runner. I was the kind of runner that actually trained for races: 5km, 10km, and even Half Marathon and Marathon distances. I had a running partner and we were members of a running club. We became running partners because we noticed that when we ran with the larger group we ran at a similar pace. My running partner and I would run together on days the cub didn’t meet. It was great to have someone around to kick your ass on those days when you felt too lazy to get dressed and tie your shoes, or to make running a well-known route less boring. Now, even though neither of us runs anymore, we’re still good friends who support each other in different ways.

I miss running. I miss the steady fall of my feet on paved roads or hilly, dirt trails through city parks. I miss the bounce and cushion from a brand new pair of running shoes. I miss the familiar sound of the footfalls of other runners as we started out on a group run. I miss competing with myself – or my running partner – to improve my time to complete a single mile or the full distance of a race. I miss the single-minded, meditative focus of running until we completed a mapped route. I miss the freedom my body felt as I carried myself over miles of open space or along city streets, reminding myself to concentrate on nothing more than one perfectly planted footfall at a time.

The only things I don’t miss are my toenails becoming bloody, and eventually turning black then falling off, from the endless pounding of my feet against the hard ground; and people asking if we were crazy because we ran even in blistering heat or extreme cold weather. However, I wouldn’t mind those things now, if it meant I could run again. If it meant the only pain I felt would be muscle soreness or the burn in my lungs from pushing through the last distance of a run. I wouldn’t mind if the pain in my legs, hip, pelvis, and back meant I was active, instead of being my constant state of existence. I definitely wouldn’t mind if taking a pill was to relieve the temporary ache of a knee or rolled ankle, instead of pain medications making me able to move the same parts of my body now.

I would run again if I could. I would run without complaining about the heat or cold, or even the lightest rains. I would run without moaning about waking early on a weekend morning to train with my club for an upcoming race. I would run in appreciation of how amazing it is that the human body can transport itself with swiftness from one place to the next without external assistance. I would run to the rhythm of my rapidly beating heart, without any other soundtrack to distract me. I would run again, if I could, just because I can.

 

Manfred Mann – The Runner

 

 

Yoga For Healing and Strength: Sun Salutation

I was never what one might call a yoga devotee. Although, I remember the very first yoga class I went to about 15 years ago with a friend from work and how well I slept when I regularly went to classes. I also remember how strong and flexible my body felt. Because of these memories, I’ve attempted to do some yoga since becoming ill to ease the stiffness and soreness all over my body, and improve my sleep. Unfortunately, most of the poses I tried made me feel more pain instead of soothing it. The only pose that helped at all to calm my severe pelvic pain from time to time was child’s pose, which doesn’t require much movement at all.

As part of my decision to be a more active participant in my healing, I’ve decided to try practicing yoga again. I did a bit of research and found the website Yoga Journal. The site doesn’t only provide instructional videos for “doing” yoga; it also includes educational information about the history and benefits, and can help you find the type of yoga and specific poses to practice depending on what you believe your body needs.

Today was the first day I attempted to do a complete yoga sequence: the sun salutation or Surya Namaskar in Sanskrit. I was able to complete three rounds of the basic variation – minus the jumps to transition between poses and deep stretching –, which doesn’t sound like a lot, but considering what happened the last time I tried, it’s a huge improvement. I used to work through the series of poses that make up a sun salutation without much thought. I can’t do that now.

I’m relearning how to move my body, after almost three years of being sedentary because of pain. I have to be mindful of each movement I make, how fast I make it, and whether it makes me have an intense pain flare up. I also have to remind myself to breathe because while I focus on moving my body I hold my breath, which makes me tense and could cause me to injure myself. I’m hoping that a slow, steady yoga practice will rebuild my strength and increase my healing, even if it means making each movement cautiously and enduring a little extra pain to start.

 

Yoga Journal – Watch + Learn: Sun Salutation

 

Gratitude and Creativity: A Year Of Banking Positives

I’ve been reflecting on the year that passed, trying to identify the best thing(s) that happened. Unlike other years, this time it wasn’t too difficult to pinpoint what I should put at the top of my list. Flipping through my memories, a few things, and people kept coming back to the surface. Much of them related to my illness and all that has happened, or hasn’t, because of it. Surprisingly, there were more good things than bad that filled my thoughts, which puts me in a positive frame of mind as this new year unfolds.

The best thing that happened to me last year, by far, was having a new surgeon assigned to my case. If I wasn’t sent to him for a second opinion, I’d probably still be sitting here with a growth in my pelvis waiting to see what might happen to it – would it grow larger or mutate into something cancerous as some speculated – and what would happen to the rest of me as a result. It took one meeting with this surgeon for things to take a more positive tone and move forward more rapidly than they had at any point since the start of my illness. Within weeks of his first assessment, I had pre-admission tests scheduled and my surgery date was set. I had surgery last August, close to the second anniversary of the frightening start of my illness, and although my recovery hasn’t been smooth, the surgical outcomes were better than anyone could have expected because the growth removed from my pelvis was benign.

The physical pain that growth introduced to my life was the catalyst for some of the other good things that are now part of my life. Because of all the pain medications I take to function daily, I had to find new ways to express myself. I started by writing a journal that focused on my pain and how I was coping with it. That journal eventually became this blog, but I soon realized I needed more to fill my life: I needed to reconnect with my creativity. I found so many creative ideas and tools online. I started an art/gratitude journal, which made me realize that who I’ve always been isn’t gone, although the fog of pain medications sometimes masks it. That spark of self-recognition helped me start writing poetry again and made me feel less disconnected and dulled. I’m also teaching myself how to draw; this came about purely by accident when I found Zentangle, which has the added benefit of being a meditative practice. My life is full of colour now – I literally have coloured pencils, pens, markers, sketchbooks and paper all over my place – when I never imagined there could be room for anything creative with this illness and constant pain.

Life
Hope

Many of my relationships also changed and some became stronger because of my illness. At this point last year I felt alone and very isolated. The feeling of isolation shifted a bit when I started this blog and made connections with people living in situations similar to mine. From their stories, I learned how chronic pain and chronic illness could take a heavy toll on your relationships with friends and family and on your relationship with yourself. Articles and blog posts I read spoke of incredible loss and loneliness because people are afraid to share the truth about their circumstances or they had people turn their backs on them when they did share the truth. I had those fears about sharing and I did lose relationships with people who didn’t want to deal with what I’m living with, and I even had some family walk away from me. However, the people who encourage me to be honest about how I feel (physically and emotionally) and want me to ask them for help are incredible. People, who a few years ago I might have considered casual friends, are now some of my closest friends. Friends I’ve known for decades are now even closer and do whatever they can to support me and keep my spirits up when pain overwhelms me. The love from these friends and the family that stand by me makes me feel less afraid about being open and less isolated, even though I spend most of my days alone.

Chronic pain and illness continued to change my life in 2015. However, as I look back, most of the positive changes wouldn’t have happened without them. I never make New Year’s resolutions and I’m not going to change that now, but I am going to hope that my bank of positive experiences continues to grow.