Caught in the Surf

As someone who likes to swim and snorkel in the ocean I have some experience with how difficult it can be getting out of the water. Sometimes the sand is firm and the slope is gentle, making it easy to get in and out. Other times there is a ledge either before the waterline or just under the waterline making a graceful and easy entry and exit (especially with two fake knees) a struggle. And sometimes the extra time it takes to plan your escape has you sinking deeper into the wet sand. Quicksand at the shore line? Sure can feel like it. Talk about hard to get out of.

And then there are those times when a wave catches you. If you haven't timed it correctly - and even when you have - you can find yourself being slammed by the surf. Occasionally once or twice, but sometimes several times in a row. Then just when you've finally fought through all the waves, and gotten past the "shelf", and pulled your legs out of the "quicksand" and are just about on dry land, another wave may hit and knock you on your bottom again.

Just like a chronic disease.

When I last posted to the blog, I was riding high working on the 50 by 50 list. Feeling good, accomplishing physical feats I never thought possible. The sand was feeling firm under my feet and the slope gradual. It was only a matter of time before a wave knocked me on my bum. Again and again and again.

In those situations - at the shore and in life - you can't give up. You have to keep fighting. So, following my own advice, I guess I'm back to blogging. Maybe it can help support that fight and bring me back to the living yet again.

Better than when I've been doing lately. Like the time in Antigua with a beautiful beach, beautiful water, beautiful day. The time/energy/effort to even think about getting into the water had been too much so I just stayed in the lounge chair, feeling miserable, wishing I had the strength to go in, longing for the days I used to be able to make it. Instead I drank a strong rum punch and slept in the chair until time to leave.

Here's hoping for less sleeping, less drinking, less feeling miserable, less longing for old days, less feeling inadequate. And hope for more living - and writing - instead.

The photo of the beach in Antigua was my background picture for quite some time
before I had to finally delete it because it was too depressing. Reminders of my inadequacies and all.

As to why I thought 4:30 in the morning on a Wednesday was a good time to start blogging again...I'm not sure.

Closer to 50

Respond to every call that excites your spirit. ~rumi

I guess that's what I'm doing with this 50 by 50 list I've been working on. My 50th birthday has passed but my list of new experiences continues. In the past few months I have completed quite a bit:

Swim in the ocean

Walk across the Golden Gate Bridge

Fly in a helicopter

Travel to Iceland

Learn to snorkel

Go zip lining

Ride in an outrigger canoe

Overcome fear of lizards

See the Cabo Arch

Take a long distance train trip

Ride a mule

See the Hollywood sign

Ride a Ferris wheel

Ride in a zodiac raft

Have acupuncture

Ride a Hobie cat

See the Northern Lights

Lie on a hammock on a beach

See a ballet

Visit an orphanage 

Try stand up paddleboarding

Visit Mayan ruins

Foster kittens

Swim with dolphins

Swim with stingrays

Ride a bicycle

See a Shakespeare play

Hold an alligator

Ride in an airboat 

Learn to paint

Join the YMCA

Try Reiki

See a sunset over Greenland

Be able to cross my legs

Walk in the Muir Woods

Feed iguanas

Fly without a seatbelt extended

Go sailing

Walk on the Wall of Fame

Do a 5K

Today's picture is proof of the Y. Who is crazy enough to show up at 5 AM and spend the next two hours working out?  It may be crazy but it's worth it to walk out to a pretty sunrise.

Commitment to Self

Two days.

Two straight days of my self-imposed two hour long workout. But that was easy. It was the weekend and I could sleep in and take my time getting to the Y. 

The hard part starts tomorrow on the first day back to work. A full work day, an 80 mile round trip commute, and a two hour workout. I've got it planned out. 

A commitment to myself. 

1 + 1 = Nap

Long before the rheumatoid arthritis was diagnosed, long before the dozen or so screws were used to put my shoulders back together, long before my right lung became non-functioning, long before my two titanium knees were implanted, long before I became mobility-scooter bound, and long before I weighed 400 pounds, I used to belong to a health club.

I had a set after school routine. Drive the 20 miles to the gym. Bike for less than 15 minutes, treadmill for about 5 minutes, lift a few weights, and then get myself into the pool. It wasn't a very challenging workout but one just long enough to make me feel like I was trying to be healthy. In hindsight it probably was a big waste of gas and time, driving that far for so little. But at least it was something.

Fast forward to today.

I now live less than five miles from the YMCA. No longer 400 pounds, no longer mobility-scooter bound, no longer expecting to do a minimum amount of work at a gym, I made my way to my first session this morning. Knowing I haven't done much but ride my bike this summer I anticipated a bit of a rough start.

One hour on the treadmill and bike and one hour in the pool. Seemed like a great plan, a great way to get me to focus on me, to get a jumpstart on an exercise program. And it was a great plan. Up until the time I got home. That warm water pool I spent my time swimming laps in and doing exercises in and walking in turned out to be quite kind to my achy joints. I felt warm and comfortable and relaxed and...tired.

While one plus one usually equals two, in my case today it became one hour plus one hour equaled a good long nap.

And almost five miles on the bike. While I didn't push myself too hard on day one, it was a place to start. I think I'll stick with my plan.