Goodnight with Green lights

This evening, I did my first workout in what feels like quite a while. This Friday will make five weeks since I had that dreadful fall while on a workout run, and found myself tumbling through the street, and then lying in un-breathing shock and pain in the middle of a neighborhood road, while everyone around was too afraid to help me, for fear of catching COVID-19 from me… which, as it happens, I did not have at the time.

I was a total mess in a way I hadn’t been since last year, when I had fallen off the Vespa, going about 30-35 miles per hour one night… I guess I lacked all the padding and protection for falls this time, so such a fall, though at a significantly lower speed, left quite similar effects as a road accident, but with a lot more blood.

I tried jogging on Sunday or Monday, on a long walk with my mom, and it was fine at first, in a sort of lazy, easy, short-stepped jog. But, as soon as I increased to a regular stride for genuine but still easy running, the quivering feeling in my shin shook me to a quick stop.

Not ready yet.

Today, Wednesday, though, I was feeling very comfortable in my leg’s ability to function on low-ish-impact, smooth, easy activities. And my whole being wanted to exercise. So, I tested out a workout that didn’t involve much knee work at all…, and it was spectacular. I even was able to do walking lunges gently. And it felt really good to use my muscles in such a way again… gosh, it was lovely. One might think they were made for such things, even… ūüėČ

Yeah, I’m going to bed tonight feeling both relieved and enlivened. Thank you for such a beautiful opportunity and result today, World. ūüôā As Matthew McConaughey might put it, thank you, World, for these red lights turned green lights.

P.S. I started listening to his audiobook during the workout. It is delightful so far, as is he, the author and reader.

Post-a-day 2020

The Fall

So, here’s the short but sweet – well, you get the idea – version of what happened yesterday evening around 5:30. ¬†I had a pretty bad fall at approximately .68 miles into my run. ¬†I was supposed to do a little 5k to be in a sort of solidarity with a student I tutor, because we had to miss tutoring yesterday due to her mandatory participation in a 5k with her school. ¬†(She is neither fan of outdoorsy things nor of running.) ¬†I had already run just over that on Thursday, and I didn’t necessarily feel like getting out to run and do a whole workout (core upon return to the house, of course), but I’d told her I would do it on Friday, and I knew I always felt great after such a workout anyway. ¬†So, I headed out. ¬†It was an amazing start to the run, and the weather was great.

However, when my eye was caught by a mother doing a sort of super-protective stance between the road and her small child, possibly as a means of preventing his sprinting suddenly to the street when a truck was passing, that great feeling changed quickly.  Since I was caught off guard by her stance, and, of course, I had to process what I was seeing before moving on in life, I was mentally focused on the mother, even though I turned my head back to the road ahead of me.  And, though, I was looking at the road again, it was not quite enough time to process that one of the manhole covers a step and a half ahead of me, while it was supposed to be flush with the road around its rim, and concave for the actual cover, the indefinite-looking roadwork of the street turned that flush edge into a lip.

And yes, I did trip on that lip.

Put simply, I flew forward. ¬†I got another step and a half-ish under me as I began to fall, but I was already turning Superman, and I knew I was not going to recover my feet. ¬†I had a brief thought of not wanting to fall simply so as not to freak out the poor onlookers – it¬†has to suck to witness someone fall hard or be part of some accident… I regularly think of how terribly frightening it must have been for that angel driving behind me when I went down on my scooter on the road that night last year. ¬†Nonetheless, I saw before the thought even finished that, oh, well, they were just going to have to witness it, and I was just going not to worry about it, and to do what I needed to do for my own health and well-being.

And so, I went down, and I went down not just hard, but with a hard forward slide. ¬†Man, it was like I were Speedy Gonzales or something, because there was no way I could have been running very slowly to slide that hard and that far, and so quickly. ¬†And I always thought my longer running was slow. ¬†Good thing I’ve been working on improving that for myself… it really paid off yesterday evening. ¬†Not.

(Note: I’m not at all bashing improving one’s skills or athletic abilities – not at all. ¬†I am merely having a fun thought and play at how, in this particular instance, being better at the sport actually made for a worse situation. ¬†Think, I might not even have fallen, if I hadn’t been going so fast. ¬†However, that changes nothing in my plans to continue to improve in my running.)

Anyway, so I went down, and I knew people saw, and I had slight concern for them, but also didn’t care and didn’t have the mental space for almost any thoughts aside from dealing with my own body’s safety and survival at present.

It really sucked. ¬†I immediately rolled to my back. ¬†I was just lying in the street then, tears pouring from down my temples and upper cheeks, as I quickly examined my hands. ¬†They were a total mess. ¬†Gashed terribly, tissue fluid and blood already everywhere, and grainy gravel bits of all sizes and dark colors everywhere on them, mixed in with the blood and peeling skin and tissue fluid. ¬†My knee was stinging slightly, and I had a feeling it was much worse than it was letting on, hidden beneath my spectacular running pants – I could look at that more later, perhaps when I got home… it only would get worse once I let my attention turn to it. ¬†The pants had held up, so I knew they would hold in most of the bleeding that likely was underneath. ¬†Not that I spent more than a moment of thought on my knee… I just glanced and moved on mentally.

My hands… oh, my hands needed help.

While I was dong this self-evaluation and feeling growing intense pain, crying somewhat calmly yet entirely uncontrollably, the mother was talking to me from her spot back on the sidewalk.

Was I okay? ¬†Did I want them to call an ambulance? ¬†Did I want them to call somebody else for me? ¬†I answer with obvious shaking of my head to all of them. ¬†I was grateful to hear, when the husband was trying to move along, the wife (mother of the little kid) said pointedly, “No, she’s not okay. She’s really hurt.” ¬†Though, I only slightly processed it, what with the pain and my own mental focus at the time. ¬†When she asked if they could get me anything, I managed, after another several seconds of gasping-like breathing, to ask, “Do you have any water?” ¬†After which I resumed the intense breathing. ¬†The crying, of course, never paused.

I was still lying on my back in the road, and it had been at least a minute at this point. ¬†Granted, I was to the side of the road, but I was definitely entirely in the road, at least a yard or two from the curb. ¬†So, I ask again about the water, figuring out how to get water, if these folks don’t have any, and she answers to me that they do. ¬†A few moments later, I hear someone begin to approach, and a hard plastic cup being set on the driveway next to me. ¬†I say next to me, because it was perpendicular to the road, st the specific spot where I lay. ¬†It was not, however, actually very near to me. ¬†It was at least three yards away from me.

“Honey, just¬†bring it to her, ” I hear the wife say, followed by the husband’s hushed, “No.” ¬†Her response was borderline furious, and something within me felt like there would be a rage in their house tonight.

Alas, there was water, and I needed it for my hands. ¬†There was no possibility of my getting up from my spot in the road, so, I stuck my hands above my head, Superman-y again, and rolled two-ish turns toward the driveway. ¬†I then forced myself to sit up – though I’m really not sure how, seeing as my hands were no real use at that point. ¬†But I grabbed the little blue sippy-type cup, and started carefully tipping the limited, precious water onto one hand at a time. ¬†And it hurt. ¬†And I knew it wouldn’t be enough – there was far too much blood and dirt that wasn’t going to come off by just dripping a single cup-full of water onto it with no real rubbing.

Not that I wanted to rub my hands…, but I needed to do it.

A truck driving past as I fell, – the one from which the mother had possibly been”protecting” her child – backed all the way up the block, and stopped even with me in the road (in which I am still sitting, of course, but I’m by the edge now). ¬†It was, for lack of better descriptors, what I would call a Mexican work truck. ¬†Likely, the guy had been working on building a house somewhere down the road – one of the new builds I had passed on my way there, perhaps. ¬†The driver exited the truck and was doing something with the truck bed for a minute. ¬†I was almost certain what would come next – it’s just a part of the culture, you know?

After a few moments, I finally comprehend that the guy is standing near me, setting down a bottle of water. ¬†He then hands me a white piece of cloth and says, “Clean. ¬†I’s clean.” ¬†(That’s “it’s” without the t, by the way.). ¬†I could barely form any words in any language, though I knew he spoke Spanish and possibly almost no English. ¬†I believe I thanked him then. ¬†I set down the sippy cup back on the driveway, and picked up the icy cold bottle of water. ¬†This will hurt, I think, but I know I need to do it.

I struggle for a few moments in my efforts to open the bottle, but I cannot manage it – this simple task is impossible for me in this moment – and so I set the bottle back down on the ground. ¬†Within seconds, the guy was back at my side, picking up and opening the bottle for me. ¬†He then holds it out in a way that I know he is offering to hold it and pour for me, and so I extend my hands and allow him to pour. ¬†I cough out some tears at the pain of it, but we can both see that it is helping clear away the mess. ¬†When I’ve wiped away as much as I can tolerate, I nod and thank him a couple or few times, as I press the white cloth into my hands, absorbing what excess still remains, and shooting pains into my hands at every press. ¬†I was barely able to see his upside down face through my tears. ¬†But I saw him and thanked his face, even if I couldn’t see his eyes.

Meanwhile, the couple stood with their child on the sidewalk, watching, mumbling. ¬†As the Mexican guy stepped back into his truck, a white Mercedes that had been briefly waiting, with the guy and me in full view on the side of the road, and his truck parked in the middle of it – keep in mind, this is a neighborhood road, not some throughway or anything – decides to squeeze between me and the truck, now that the guy isn’t standing next to me anymore. ¬†When the mother on the sidewalk commented with fury at the fact that the woman had seen us and easily could have just gone around the block – and these are¬†tiny blocks, by the way, in a traditional square arrangement – I genuinely agreed with her. ¬†Though, I also felt sad at the driver of the Mercedes. ¬†How miserable must one be to be such an a** during an obvious “situation” of someone sprawled in the road?

Anyway… I really liked the wife/mother. ¬†Not so much the paranoia of the husband, though. ¬†Which, by the way, he picked up that cup after I set it back down to give it back to them… Just saying.

Okay, so everyone moves on. ¬†I have my keys and my phone again, and I roll myself the rest of the way fully onto the driveway. ¬†I lay there a handful of minutes, still crying. ¬†I hear a dog collar approaching on the sidewalk behind me, and am unconcerned. ¬†Minus¬†the tiny hope that the owner won’t be too distraught at the sight.

It turned out to be an older guy, out walking his dog. ¬†He asked if I was okay, and I carefully told him that I wasn’t but that I would be – I could talk now. ¬†Kind of. ¬†He offered to bring me bandages, saying that he lived just right nearby, and I said that that actually would be really great. ¬†His walk turned into a cautious jog of concern, as he raced around the corner, heading to his unseen home. ¬†I hardly even knew how he looked. ¬†I still couldn’t process such details.

And so, when her returned a couple minutes later, I sat myself up again, and got to work. ¬†I poured the hydrogen peroxide on my knew first, then my left hand, and both were okay. ¬†It hurt a bit, but it really just foamed and mostly was okay. ¬†The guy was surprised at this. ¬†He’d even said he would look away while I poured the peroxide, clearly indicating that he didn’t want me to be embarrassed at my likely reaction of intense pain. ¬†An old man had approached at this point, and was asking questions. ¬†I had already worked hard enough to answer them for the first guy – what happened; yeah, I’m definitely hurt; I’ll be okay, just not yet; I live about .62 miles that way – so I let him answer them for me. ¬†He didn’t seem to mind, once he saw that I clearly wasn’t up to it. ¬†Then, while they chatted, I poured the peroxide on my right hand. ¬†And that, my friends, was the exact memory I had had of hydrogen peroxide from my childhood, and the reason I was terrified of it as an adult. ¬†I had used it a couple times recently, and couldn’t understand why I’d been afraid of it. ¬†My mom had given it to me last year (?), saying that alcohol burns, not hydrogen peroxide. ¬†And it had been true so far in my adult life. ¬†Until this moment, in a stranger’s driveway with two older guys chatting about me and my present situation.

My body took over control as I convulsed and wailed, and even more tears poured from my eyes, the rate increased significantly from the original fall’s. ¬†I felt bad for this pour girl on the side of the road. ¬†I couldn’t imagine how the onlookers felt. ¬†(There was a secret onlooker across the street in the apartments, who had clearly been considering off and on whether to come help. ¬†She, too, looked hispanic, and I fear her concern was one not only of COVID-19, but mostly of a fear of not being able to communicate. ¬†I don’t exactly exude Spanish (or any language other than English, really), so I get it.

Anyway, so that really sucked, and I had to pour the painful cold water on it to make the pain go down at least somewhat – I couldn’t take it anymore. ¬†Funny how that cold water was suddenly not so big a deal anymore, right? ¬†Eventually, I blew my nose a bunch more with the rest of the paper towels the guy had brought, and I¬†put a compress on my knee. ¬†I had raised the pant leg while still in the street, and, aside from the clear layer of¬†skin that was plastered to the fabric, my knee didn’t look like it needed too much immediate attention. ¬†So, after the quick rinse of water and the peroxide, it was good to go, in terms of germ-prevention and safety until I made it home.

Now, all this time, I had been evaluating how I would be getting home. ¬†No family lives anywhere near me, so that was out as an option, if I couldn’t walk it. ¬†I considered a high school acquaintance who lived nearby. ¬†I was rather sure he would come get me and drive me home, if I really needed, but I didn’t want to turn to that except as a last resort. ¬†So, my options were really either to walk or to run home. ¬†If I ended up being able to run, I knew I would end up finishing the 5k. ¬†It was a slim chance, but it wouldn’t’ have surprised me. ¬†However, walking was the most likely of the three options. ¬†And, at this point in time, I noticed that I still had not felt that moment of,¬†Okay, let’s¬†get up, that we always get at some point after a fall. ¬†And, so far as I could tell, it was nowhere nearby either. ¬†I wasn’t going anywhere for a while. ¬†I mean, I hadn’t even fully stopped crying at this point, and it had been ten minutes already.

I had started “chatting” with the younger of the two older guys, during the times that I could use my words, and, after I had finished all my dressings, ¬†he offered yet again to drive me home – “We can put the windows down, be safe…” – I said, at last, “I think that would be a very good idea,” nodding and speaking with obvious effort, pinches of tears falling. ¬†He hopped into action, and took his first aid kit and hydrogen peroxide and, even, the trash back to his home. ¬†A couple minutes later, a Jeep came roaring around the corner, windows down.

I struggled to find the least painful way, and managed myself to my feet without too much disruption. ¬†But, oh, did it hurt to use my right leg/knee… ¬†The guy opened the passenger door for me, and I struggled my way into the seat. ¬†I fumbled for a while, throwing in involuntary cries of pain, getting the seatbelt on myself and shutting the door… I just couldn’t use my hands almost at all: no pressure on them from the outside, and no muscle flexing within them.

We chatted on the brief drive back that almost-three-quarters-of-a-mile path, exchanged names, and wished one another well as we arrived and I struggled my way out of the Jeep.  I thanked him over and over again, both during the ride and at the end of it.  And also before it, too.  And then I slowly and painfully stumbled up the walkways and stairs, managed to unlock and open the door, and get myself inside.

I had sent my mom a couple photos after the first group had left, before I lay back down on the driveway, and then had called her when the guy had gone to get his Jeep. ¬†I had known that she was driving before then, so I waited to call when I knew she would be able to see the photos. ¬†At my first, “Hey,” she knew something had happened. ¬†“What happened?” she asked, concerned, but not freaking out. ¬†She probably had figured I’d had some terrible interaction with someone mean – that’s usually the answer to¬†What happened?. ¬†I told her to look at the photo I’d sent her. ¬†She looked, and understood immediately. ¬†I told her the present situation and that I thought I would be okay. ¬†Now that I was home, I called her again, just to let her know that I was there, and also to see what she recommended I do to help myself at this point.

She prescribed me some time with an ice pack of sorts and an elevated leg, a shower, and then just before bed, rubbing gently hydrogen peroxide into my wounds with a Q-tip (cotton, you see), since I couldn’t get all the dirt off my hands.

The shower was long and hot and extremely painful at first, but it helped significantly by the end of it. ¬†The hydrogen peroxide left me, yet again, wailing involuntarily in pain, pouring tears, and practically shouting half-comprehensible phrases and annoyances. ¬†By the way, blowing your nose with a tissue and non-usable thumbs¬†sucks. ¬†That’s to say the least.

When I woke up in the middle of the night with a need to pee, I not only had to detach my palms from the sheets (painfully, of course), due to sticking tissue fluid, but hobble down the stairs, squat down to the toilet seat, and then attempt to wipe myself with a clumsy and burning left hand (the right was a solid no-go).  This repeated itself when my alarms went off at five forty-something to get me up for test proctoring today.

Today, my knee¬†hurts. More like my upper shin than my kneecap, but it still hurts. ¬†It’s kind of like a super bruise feeling, but the skin doesn‚Äôt really hurt. ¬†My hands, however, have been bad. I still have no opposable thumbs for the time being… if I try to use them, I involuntarily wail from the instant pain in my lower palm. The right is the worst. ¬†The left, starting this evening, has actually started to come around a bit. ¬†They were both still producing tissue fluid 20 hours after the incident, but have since mostly ceased. ¬†But any sharp movements or pressure, and they resume it. ¬†They felt like fire last night period. ¬†Tonight, they only get that feeling when they are either bumped or wet. ¬†Or, of course, I attempt to use my thumb for any kind of grip, or clench my fingers in an attempt to grip anything. ¬†(I almost couldn’t get out of my room this morning, because the doorknob is very thin¬†and takes a lot of pressure to get open…) ¬†In fact, it is extremely difficult even to type this right now.

All in all, that totally sucked, and it still sucks now, but I am mending safely, it seems.  And I am grateful for that.

On that note, I shall sleep.  But first, the photos:

This was yesterday, after rinsing off and rolling into the driveway.

This was the darned manhole cover with the “lip”.

This was after my shower last night.

I had to set the phone timer for this one.

And these were this evening, about 25 hours after the fall. ¬†I had to set the timer on these, too, because I couldn’t both hold the phone and click the shutter button… no thumbs, remember. ¬†(I tell you, it is one thing just not to have opposable thumbs. ¬†It is something else entirely not to have them in a world designed for opposable thumbs. ¬†I am having to learn drastic new ways of completing the formerly simplest of tasks[!!!].)

Post-a-day 2020

Bruised

Well, my toenail on my second toe on my right foot is officially bruised. It’s actually reddish purple now. Not the whole thing, but the whole left side, all the way to just past the center, as well as a small spot on the right side. And the tip is still white, of course, because that doesn’t change since it’s already been unattached to the skin for a while. But the attached part does not look very comfortable. Fortunately (?), however, it doesn’t look like it will be falling off.

I’ve had that happen before. It isn’t exactly unpleasant, but it isn’t pleasant either. I suppose the worst part is afterward, while there is no nail to protect the sensitive skin of the toe that is now suddenly exposed to the world and to shoes. That part of it totally sucks, actually, but it is still doable, easily survived. Just very uncomfortable for a while, I suppose.

I event had a run today as part of the workout, and it was totally okay. And even pressing on that particular toe and toenail doesn’t hurt anymore, which is quite good.

But yeah, it doesn’t look like this nail is falling off. Partially and strongly bruised, but not killed. Much like my pride and drive after that date with that guy way back when. Or like my brother’s when he busted a piece of his fancy motorcycle while pushing it up the loading ramp for the trailer to take it home from the racetrack…. and then shortly thereafter when he had his bicycle stolen out of the back of his truck (though it was locked up), after he had felt like it was a bad idea to leave the bicycles back there while he and a friend went into the store…. yeah, kind of like that… except probably nowhere near as bad. This is just a light bruising compared to all of that.

So… yeah… ūüėõ

And no, my hamstrings are not better today. However, despite the run, which wasn’t actually very difficult at all, they aren’t any worse than they were yesterday! ūüôā

Post-a-day 2020

A different ouch

Well, my hamstrings started to grow sore last night… Today, they have been amazingly sore, but only when something comes into contact with them, or I have to go from sitting to standing. Otherwise, I guess I haven’t really noticed them much… But, boy… in those moments do they hurt(!!!)… whew…

I just hope testing will be helpful tonight instead of the opposite of what they actually need – action. Either way, I’ve got to exercise tomorrow, since it didn’t happen today – things ran too close to one another today for me to get in a workout. And that was totally okay for me, by the way. I have finally begun to embrace who and how I want to be around my own physical fitness and my food and such right now. I am exercising for myself, again, and eating for myself, and it has been feeling amazing – and so easy to do, too. And I didn’t get all stressed or angry with myself or my life when the workout didn’t happen today, or when I saw yesterday that it likely wouldn’t happen today. It genuinely has been okay. And I am grateful for that.

But I’d really like to relax these aching legs already. ūüėõ

Post-a-day 2020

Today

I’m not sure what to share today… I woke up later than planned but early enough, as hoped, and completed a workout before sunrise. It’s amazing the difference it makes 1) to have the coolest part of the day and no sunlight, and 2) to start off the day with exercise. I had only done the first part of the workout at one point, when I noticed how I already felt amazing… and more so than I have felt any morning lately, even when I have slept many more hours.

I called my mom, because she was messaging me, and kind of hung out with her as my workout neighbor over the phone for the first half of the workout. It was actually really cool, and I enjoyed it immensely. It was nice to have that same feeling of company that the workout class gave. Truly, it was a fabulous way to begin the day. It was so good, in fact, that I didn’t even realize that I had already mentally planned to do it again tomorrow, without even thinking about how I have only managed to do workouts every other day at highest frequency lately… I’m delighted for what feels like a true shift for myself here.

AND… dear me, my friend reminded me yesterday how “ice cream sandwich > some guy”. I had been preventing myself from having one or having any ice cream, because of my concerns around being not fit enough and whatnot. I ate and enjoyed the sandwich last night, got up and worked out as planned today (only the time was slightly different, but it was still the first thing I did and I had to get up early to do it), ran all my super important errands of the day (including a lovely and satisfying lunch with my mom), and then picked up veggies and ice cream and gelato from the grocer on the way back home. And I totally ate a couple bites of the gelato and several bites of the ice cream. Full enjoyment on that ice cream tonight, and still within the caloric goals for the day. Bamn! I can do this, derr. And, though I don’t want to have it all that often, due to the dairy and the sugar, I was comfortable today in the fact that it’s okay for me to have ice cream when ice cream is what I truly want to have. And, today, it was. And it was delicious and satisfying.

Tomorrow, another workout to start off the day! ūüėÄ

Oh, also, I met a lovely and adorable Australian Shepherd today… gosh, it was hard to stop rubbing and petting her, and to leave her to go home… she was lovely and super sweet… I want to snuggle now… haha

P.S. It is September now… what on Earth???

Post-a-day 2020

Playing love, not fair

Have you ever come back to something from the past, mostly in a casual comment during a casual conversation, and discovered with surprise that not only are you not over the event but you are actually rather furious about it still? I had that happen tonight while showering. I was considering my struggle to do a workout today, and the friend who helps keep me accountable by my sending her the workouts whenever I finish them. I was imagining a conversation with her, sorting out why I struggle so much to make myself exercise right now, on my own, and determining what was at stake for me, why I want so badly to be so super fit. My motivation, it turns out, has been something along the lines of ‘I’ll show him,’ regarding a guy who judged me strongly, prematurely, and quite unfairly… which, I dare say, even without my recent struggles to exercise easily, I know is not a good enough motivation. I don’t want to have to be that way with anyone. And I don’t want to do things for someone else’s sake, when they really are for my sake. I want to be beautifully fit for me, not for anyone else. Yes, I want others to benefit from my fitness and also the physical beauty of that fitness. No, that is not the reason I want to be fit. And yes, people are granted an opportunity to see what they themselves do not have by not being in a relationship with me, when I am very fit and healthy and well. But none of it matters if I am not happy, myself. And I know I won’t be fit, if I am not happy. And I know being fit for revenge of sorts is no motivator for me – it is mean, shallow, and an easy escape. Rather than deal with any issue at hand for myself, I throw something like revenge out? Not hardly… I know to my deepest core that such an act is not for me, and does not serve me in even the least bit – it only harms and hurts me in the long run, as well as the daily.

And so, I now am re-evaluating two things.

1) What do I need to do to heal and to free myself from the stress regarding this guy who was unfair toward me?

2) What is my true motivation for being fit – why do I actually want what level of fitness?

Those are my tasks for the present, and I look forward with delight to their solutions, but slight fear to the tears I know must be shed to reach such solutions.

Here goes…

Post-a-day 2020

Working it out

I have been getting back into exercising the past few weeks, thanks to my original exercise buddy (who has now moved to Roanoke, VA). ¬†Originally, we were “attending class” at the same time, she at 5:30pm and I at 4:30pm (though, in my living room or somewhere else not actually at the gym) on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. ¬†However, I have been able to stick with that, whether she changes her days or not – I have merely needed the pretense – is that the right word? – of our working out at the same time to get myself to follow the schedule and make it happen for myself… ¬†Even if she doesn’t work out then, I am totally okay with it, and I still make myself do the workout, anyway.

Since I’ve been doing so well with that in particular, I’ve been considering how the weekends are really rough for me – going two days without a workout is too much when I’m only working out three days a week in the first place. ¬†It was already hard enough when I was going to the gym four weekdays out of five, to take two days off on the weekend. ¬†But Saturday mornings are hard for me, and the class is always at 9am or 10am, which means I’d have to be getting out of bed a long while before then…, which just doesn’t often happen, since the weekend is typically the only time I get to stay up late and sleep in in the morning.

That being said, I’m strongly considering doing M-W-F-Sun one week, and T-Th-Sat the following week, and just going back and forth each week. ¬†Essentially, it is just working out every other day period. ¬†But it helps mentally to have it framed the first way each week.

Yeah… so, that’s where I am with things on the workout schedule right now. ¬†I’m still not at ease with it all enough to return to my previous schedule (MTWFSat), but doing every other day would be an appreciated step forward… much appreciated. ¬†Plus, if I want to get to that 200 workouts in my second year at the gym, I need to up my game, and fast. ¬†Slowing things down so much during this stay-at-home stuff has¬†really messed with my numbers so far. ¬†Fortunately, though, I still have another seven and a half months to sort it out… I think I’ve done around 30…??? That’s really just a wild guess here…So, that leaves an approximate 170 workouts, to be managed in around 32 weeks, making it five workouts a week I’d have to do going forward from today. ¬†I’m definitely not there yet. ¬†However, I can get there again in, hopefully, another few weeks. ¬†I did two-a-days every so often in the past, so I can definitely start dong those again, too, to help manage the numbers better. ¬†Anyway, the point it that I can do this, and I am moving forward towards it once again. ¬†ūüôā

I bid you a good night, because I am extremely sleepy right now, and I want to go to sleep. ¬†ūüôā

Post-a-day 2020

Achy Faith

My body has been sore the past several days, and I am extremely grateful for it.

I have finally begun to do exercises again, thanks to my having reached out to a friend for help with accountability and support, and her acceptance of the request… It seems only fitting, because we used to go to the gym together in the first place, before everything closed, and then she moved.

Now, for the time being, anyway, neither of us is in Houston.

But we work out st the same time together, she at 5:30pm after work, and I at 4:30pm, the time I used to attend in-person classes…, and it works, because she is on the East coast now, so we actually exercise at the exact same time.

It still sucks to be paying for a gym membership to a gym that medicine and society tell me not to attend, but I would rather be safe than yelled at or blamed or sorry (or, even, sick)…, so, I stay away from the one place I ever really feel called to be on a daily basis, the one place I miss most…

But I am, at last, doing workouts at home again, using the workouts the owner originally made for us back when the gym closed for a while, and everyone had to work out at home together.

So, I could technically just cancel my membership, and do these workouts on repeat for the rest of my life, if I wanted… but I don’t want to do that.

I am using this gym’s workouts, even if they are old, and so I will maintain my membership.

It feels absurd, but right – I have thought on it many times, and I feel incredibly uncomfortable at the idea of canceling my membership…, so, I have let it go – I’ll stay a member and just suck it up… something about this will balance out, and it all will be beautiful and perfect.

I have faith in this.

P.S. A family friend – he’s our personal car and motorcycle expert – wants me to buy this great quality vehicle off of him, since they never use it anymore… it’s a Porsche Cayenne… what on Earth???… So, I might be upgrading from an old, crank window, semi-falling-apart Hyundai Accent, that was ranked as being worth $245 two and a half years ago on Kelley Blue Book, and that is not very reliable beyond an easy ten- or fifteen-minute drive… to a Porsche… Woah

Post-a-day 2020

Energizer*

I was planning to get a lot done on my computer while up here… When my brother was working during the day for his job, I was going to make my job be to do a few specific things on my computer, most notably writing, and secondarily photography stuff.

I have done minimal writing, and no photography organizing while up here.

I haven’t even gone through the photos that I’ve done while up here…

I guess, I have just been busy taking advantage of being here versus anywhere else… versus home, mostly.

I have exercised with workouts and with just doing various outdoor activities, and often multiple times a day… today, I spent 18,500 steps on my hike at the park, followed by a Hard workout at the gym… when I only had 3,700 steps Tuesday evening for the day so far, it was because we had gone so hard with the outdoor activities all the long weekend long, and had genuinely had to Take A Break, and just lounge around the house for the day.

We’ve been doing a lot outside, and it has been very good for me.

At first, I was so wiped out from the combo of all my already-present life stresses and the added menstruation, I could barely do anything physical or liking to exercise… I could sit on a stationary bicycle and pedal casually, rolling out my leg muscles both before and afterward…, and that was it.

Since those first few days, however, the menstruation has finished, and the activities outdoors have exploded… energy demands have been high, and energy has been in high supply – aka it has been awesome.

Tomorrow is my last full day here, so I shall sleep now, so that I can actually get up tomorrow(!).

Goodnight, World and world at large!

*Bunny

(Think Duracell…)

P.S. That workout this afternoon was an approximate 600 calories burned, based on the fitness tracker my brother has… just for a frame of reference for these workouts that we do… hashtag not easy. ūüėõ

Post-a-day 2020

And another…

Well, another song has come into being by my hands.

And I like this one, too.

No, it is not so love-overflowing and happy and hopeful as the first, but it is still honest, and, while it hurts some, it is releasing…, cathartic, in a way…, and it offers hope.

Tomorrow morning, I will do my first of two workouts for the day, then I will start work on yet another song as part of my homework (due at 4:30pm tomorrow), then do another workout for lunch, and be delighted in the accomplishment of my one-year relationship Рthe only anniversary I’ve ever had Рwith the gym.

I am excited for tomorrow, and I am grateful for today.

God, help me to be true to myself and thereby share and create true love in the World.

Amen

Post-a-day 2020