Spring Constant

My mental and emotional health requires me to move. I NEED physical activity. Without regular exercise I am a tightly coiled spring, full of potential energy and ready to unleash at the slightest provocation.

Personally, I am not a social exerciser. I seek out solitary sports like swimming, biking and running. It may seem strange that I love being a group fitness instructor, and most people that have been to my classes would comment that I am a ridiculously social chatterbox while I am teaching, but then I'm there to teach and motivate my participants, and not for my own workout... Aside from my husband, there are few people that can lull me into conversation while I am in the zone. I crank the volume and sing to the music. Loudly. If you are on a treadmill beside me, unbeknownst to you, I am probably having a secret race with you. This would lead you to believe that I am an accomplished athlete or something, and while I'm happy with my long-ago race times, they are not going to make the news. Mostly I'm just ridiculously competitive. Not sure why. It's not something I'm proud of - I'm just being honest.

It's 6am and I can't sleep because my body is rebelling. My right hand is suspended in a splint for a flare-up of Carpal Tunnel Syndrome, and my left knee is being iced for a recurrent injury. My right foot throbs. My hips are out of alignment. I am not trying to garner sympathy, as I know that there are people out there with bigger problems! But as I think and type this, I wonder if this is my new physical reality?

Yesterday I went for a hilly jaunt to JJ Bean for 'coffee and a muffin' with my girls... girls that, coupled with a giant double stroller, are very closely approaching my body weight. I was tired. I wore stupid shoes. I was not 'moving mindfully' when the dog was pulling on her leash, nor when I was trying to balance my coffee mug in one hand and push the stroller with the other. I didn't do my physio corrections for my back that morning. It was my first week back teaching full time, and my first week back into my own workout regime.

There are a million and one reasons why I am feeling like this right now, and things that I could have done to prevent it. I should know better. Believe me, this irony is not lost. But I've never had to think, or prepare so much, just to go get a damned coffee!

I've seen my body go through two pregnancies, three years of breast feeding, major abdominal surgery, and many kid-related repetitive strain injuries. I have a few battle scars. I'm not solely blaming motherhood, but it has taken its toll, along with aging, agressive training, etc. Every once in a while I hear a story about a mother of four who ran her best marathon ever a few months after her youngest babe was born. If this was you, I want to give you the biggest congratulatory hug, and thank you for empowering women everywhere! It also means that my ridiculous competitive streak has probably flared up, and I am suddenly in a secret race with you. It's not something I'm proud of - I'm just being honest.

Do we all hurt? Is that marathon mommy sleeping with heating pads and special pillows and the perfect position to increase the likelihood of a decent sleep? Am I the only one that relies on chiropractors and massage therapists and physiotherapists (thankyouthankyouthankyou) to get through the month?

And am I always going to be fearful that going for a coffee is going to bite me in the bum?

This is a hard post for me, because of what I do for a living. But again, it's not something I'm proud of - I'm just being honest.