Saturday, July 01, 2006
Farvergnuggets
Once again, I'd lost my way. I've been so sick for so long, so fat, so fearful of a coronary or stroke, that I've been babying myself. Along with my newfound enjoyment of NOT having a totally disgusting house, has been the rediscovery of what I used to be, and what I need to get back to being. I WAS a hard-charging, merciless ass-kicker once upon a time. I wasn't just that way with others, I was often more brutal to myself. I hammered my body into something resembling indestructibility. When I played, I pushed to my limits, then refused to accept they WERE limits. I broke boards and bricks, even dented thin steel with my fists. I could extend both forearms and have others break two boards at a time on each forearm and not feel a twinge of pain. (Ok, one of the broken boards flew up and smacked me in the face once and that hurt like a bitch, but I don't think that counts). I could do six-inch leg lifts with joy and enthusiasm while a class full of students, some in excellent shape, were screaming for mercy.
Then I got sick. My legs got that horrid infection, I went to the hospital and got two more horrid infections and nearly lost my legs to amputation. They're almost completely healed at last, but I've still been babying them!
What the hell is WRONG with me? Mindset. It's all about the brain. I'm already dealing with the physical changes that being 50 and a lardass bring. My middle back has a vertebrae that LOVES to pop out of line. My lower back is often stiff and sore, as a chiropractor warned me it would be if I didn't keep it stretched and limber. Having a big gut pulling on it from the front makes it worse, of course. I don't like most of the foods that are good for me, though I'm learning to compromise and eat them anyway.
It helps that a pair of young friends are assisting me in prepping my rain forest of a yard to install my pool. Their youth, enthusiasm and boundless, explosive energy are inspiring. It's easy to draw on their energy when they're here, grab some tools and start busting ass. However, I'm finding that when I'm alone, I have to create my own energy. I have to tell my body to shut up and quit whining, it's only another hour or two till sundown. I have to quit looking at the most physically daunting tasks and doing something else till I have people here to help me.
I don't WANT to be one of those bent old men, shuffling around with a mind that holds a storehouse of great knowledge and a body that's failing them. I don't want to be bedridden, cathetered, colostomied (thought I might have some fun with that from time to time if I could get out of bed), wearing adult diapers if I'm not colostomied. I watched my Dad's will to live drain away, all the fight vanish.
I won't go like that.
I can't ever be what I was, not physically; but I sure as hell can be more than I am.
I will be, too.
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