Once again, I've been out-of-commission so far as this blog goes (save a for a book review). I've heard other people talk about the difference between "writers" and "seasonal writers". Writers, from what I understand, write every day. Whether they want to or not, whether inspiration strikes or not, even if they have to drag themselves kicking and screaming to the keyboard- they write. I am clearly not that kind-of writer. At least not at this point in my life.
Seasonal writers, they say, go through fits and bursts- times of insanely high productivity where the thoughts flow out of them so quickly their fingers can barely keep up and other times when the well dries up and the computer gathers dust. That seems to be me. Other passions, other practices have firmly taken the reins so far as time and commitment. I have to be ok with that for now.
Yoga- My number one passion, practice and focus at the moment. I have been diving deeper and deeper into this new-found lifestyle and I'm loving it. Everything I was saying earlier still applies and I'm trying not to get overwhelmed by how much there is to learn (not surprising with a 5,000 year-old discipline). There's so much reading, so much note-taking and journaling about the process and how I react to it (so I am still writing, just not here) and so much--- just so much. The one big thing I wanted to share is that I finally painted the cover of my yoga journal and I have to say that I was thrilled with how it came out.
I haven't painted anything in so long I can't remember and this week, after writing in it for almost two months, I finally got out my lovely watercolors (given to me several Christmases ago) and painted. At least 20 times during the process I thought "This is horrible! I should paint it all black and start again!" But I pushed those thoughts away and kept painting and in the end I came out with something I'm really proud of. It represents- to me- all the elements: earth, air, fire, water and ether- in various forms and fits the spirit of the journal and the whole process I'm in. (Plus it's puuurrrty ^_^) If any of you artistically inclined folks want a really special journal then go out and get yourself a canvas-covered one. Totally worth it.
Healing- On July 11th I was SUPPOSED to run in the Pottstown half marathon. In preparation for that, I planned to do my long run in Valley Forge park.
A story: July 4th, I'm running in the park when I get hit by a bike. Both the bicyclist and myself go flying and land in the (thankfully soft) mud. His friends who were riding with him all stop and rush over to inspect us and make sure we're ok. He's absolutely fine, just a little embarrassed. I seem to be- there's no cuts or wounds and the only sign of injury is a little tire burn on my right leg. I stand up, take a look around, walk a couple steps and conclude that everything is fine. I walk back to my car feeling pissed off that it happened but concluding that I'll just do the run tomorrow (since I only got a little under 5 miles in out of my planned 13).
Over the course of that day, my leg starts to swell. Not just the calf muscle where I got hit but everything south of there- my ankle, my foot, all of it. By that evening I'm barely able to put any weight on it and my limp is so bad I can barely get around my house. I'm getting the distinct impression that my dream of running the Pottstown half is about to be crushed.
Monday I go to the doctor. She doesn't seem all that concerned. She tells me to put an ace bandage on it, try to stay off of it, and when I do start running to start off with something small- like 2 miles. Based on the fact that I can hobble around on it it doesn't seem to be broken, but she gives me a script to get an x-ray just in case it doesn't start to feel better by the end of the week. She announces, as if it's really obvious, that I will not be running any half marathon that weekend. When I get back to the car I let myself finally cry like I'd wanted to when I first got the idea that my run was doomed. Training that hard and psyching yourself up for something only to have a freak accident a week before ruin everything is a pretty big blow.
I'm thinking I don't want to go and wait 45 minutes to get an x-ray that's just going to tell me what I already know- nothing's broken. (My logic being that the doctor would be much more concerned and I wouldn't be able to walk at all if that were the case.) So I just get the ace bandage and go back to work.
Over the course of that week the bruising gets MUCH worse and the swelling doesn't go down. My walking doesn't improve any, either. After hearing three different stories from people who knew someone who walked around on a broken or fractured leg or foot for a week or more before they finally got an x-ray that showed breakage I finally agreed to go get the x-ray.
She prescribes an air cast and physical therapy and tells me- in no uncertain terms- that it will be a LONG time before I'm able to run again and when I do start I'm gonna want to do a lot less then 2 miles. (Well, at least she's taking it seriously.)
Fast forward to today and I am walking with absolutely no limp thanks to the air cast and only a slight one when I take it off. The swelling is almost completely gone and the bruising is doing that lovely rainbow coloring that looks nasty but lets you know it's healing.
I'm also feeling, to bring it back to the theme, insanely grateful. It shouldn't take injuries like this to make me so acutely aware of how damned lucky I am to walk, run and do everything else I can do without much difficulty. Hobbling around these past three weeks has made me think so much more about how difficult it must be to walk down a hallway, get into or out of a car, go to the supermarket- hell, even get on and off the toilet- when you're disabled. I'm going to be back up to snuff in relatively short order while so many others never get that back and I am aware that I am really, REALLY lucky for that. So if there is a silver lining to all this it's that it's reminded me of my many gifts- and that's a never a bad thing to be reminded of.
Happy to no longer be hopping- because I can actually walk now! But you can all still hop for fun.