Stumbling a Bit.
Tuesday, August 13, 2013
It’s all the rage right now to be a cross fitter. I figured out pretty fast I’m not cut out for it. I’ve never been much of an athlete to begin with. A few years of dedicated weight lifting and yoga , walking, jogging, and five k races has done nothing to convince me that, with a little more effort, I could become some kind of super athlete. It’s popular in this culture to tell people anyone can do it, but the real reason some people sit on the couch and watch while others win the gold medals often has far more to do with relative talent than relative laziness.
I was coming to terms with this fact some months ago and doing pretty well at appreciating that my best competition was myself. I was developing strength and probably in the best shape I have ever been in my life when I was struck with a terrible affliction.
Yeah, I know, fifty is the new thirty, and it really doesn’t seem that old once you get there. My parents and older siblings are still alive, so I can look to them and grin and feel like I’m still a kid sometimes. I can say you’re only as young as you feel.
Unfortunately, I’m not feeling all that young lately.
It started sometime back. I would get these nagging pains. I thought at first they were injuries. I would skip a workout or two or dial back my routines whenever the pain started up. The “injuries” would go away in fair weather and come back in foul, and as winter settled in last year, my body became worse and worse. In desperation I quit working out altogether in November, hoping my tricky shoulders would stop hurting.
They got worse, to the point that by January I had to change my sleeping position and was looking at my bed as if it was some kind of torture device. My shoulders ached something awful if I tried to raise my arms over my head. I blamed myself, thinking I’d worn out my joints with all the weight lifting.
Eventually I learned this was a function, not of exercise, but some kind of inherited disorder. Arthritic shoulders run in my family. I’m planning to get it checked out by a specialist, but strongly suspect it’s something I’ll just have to learn to live with.
It was sure a blow to my ego. Xena, the warrior princess goes from flexing her muscles to feeling mighty puny. A lot of the things that have made me feel empowered are being necessarily pushed off my agenda in favor of lighter therapy type exercises designed to help maintain a normal range of motion.
But life goes on. I’m coming to terms with it and, in doing so, realizing that I need to quit mourning the stuff I’ve lost and make the best of what I still have. Take care of the body I have and realize that my modest exercise plan doesn’t have to be extreme to be worth doing, nor do I have to be awesomely strong to be in good shape for my situation.
But I do need to watch what I eat and it’s a challenge that’s far more serious than I’ve been taking it.
In the past year, between reduced activity, depression, and apathy, I’ve let some of the weight creep back on. I need to deal with this, so here I am attempting to make a comeback here on Spark People.
Wish me luck. I’ll need it.