Cathy: Exalted Warrior – or is it ‘exhausted’?

After Miranda’s blog on “Someday,” I began to rethink things. A big thing I began to rethink is how I’ve gone from my daily walks down to nothing in the concept of exercise or taking care of myself. That was number two on my comment list. I’ve noticed a considerable increase in crankiness because of it, too; as well as less efficiency in writing my manuscript. I won’t go into the aches and pains.

Before my past year-plus spent in bed, I had a regular routine of a 20-minute yoga tape I did for years at least three times per week. Before I was in bed, I walked the dog quickly, and mowed the lawn myself with an ecologically sound, human-powered rotary blade mower. I cut down dead bushes, dug out root balls and hand-tilled my gardens by myself. Mind you, none of this was ever easy for me, as I have back issues going as far back as age 12 and bad knees, shoulder, etc, too. Physical strength was never my strong suit.

After my year in bed, I had taken a while to get back on my feet. This summer I started with walking the dog, pushing Baby C in the stroller, because I literally couldn’t stand on my own. I was determined, though, and daily, no matter how much it hurt, how tired I was, how hot it got here — around 100 degrees most days — at 11:00 in the morning, there I was, dog on a leash, baby, bottle of water, canvas bag hanging from stroller filled with books — reading, writing, Wreck this Journal, and camera inside. Neighbors spotted me and waved on the street loop of my subdivision. I swear it was these walks (along with this website) and my recouping meditative sits on the bench by the fingerlake that got me back to a state where I could consider breaking out my old, not forgotten project.

A couple of weeks back, somehow, by rain, cold or sheer sleep deprivation, I fell out of the habit. Co-incidentally, my writing progress fell off, too. Then I read Miranda’s blog post. Several days were spent considering I may be in enough recovery from my super-relaxin hormone problem to start doing yoga again without coming apart at every joint.

Today, I got Baby C to nap, and cleaned out the video cabinet in the search for my old reliable yoga tape. Among other surprises, I discovered a broken shelf held up by the strategic placement of a Raiders of the Lost Ark videotape — need to have a discussion with certain young male family members. But finally, I did the yoga tape. I’m finding long-forgotten muscles creeping up on me a couple of hours later, but I feel much more relaxed, less impatient than yesterday. Maybe tonight I can get through homework with S without the recent dramas — mine, not his. Those are to be expected. And maybe the gears of fiction will grind back on, squeaky and creaky, matching body during yoga, but on nonetheless.