What they say is true, "you are as old as you feel" and today I feel really old.
I have been out of the physical activity circle for a while now due to the numerous aches and pains that have been bestowed upon me by my ancestors. I don't run because I have bad ankles and tend to always find a way of twisting them four steps into a slow jog. Not to mention that my blood pressure likes to hover at 80/60 (normal is 100/80), so the minute I stand up I get sever head rushes as if my heart doesn't know why I am putting it through such anguish. I walk often but after a while my right knee starts to ache; this too depends on the humidity. And to top it all off sit ups and crunches hurt my back, A LOT! This ache has a bit of a history...
I have never had a really good back to begin with and since I decided to go back to school a few years back my part time jobs have been physically taxing, to say the very least. I had a job for 3 years that had me going up and down stairs (in a stadium environment - tour de stad) for 3 hours a shift with a tray of beer, hot dogs, sushi, you name it. Apparently, that is not a great job when you have cheap shoes purchased from my favourite discount department store. Nonetheless, being the trooper that I am, I endured it like a champ, until the fateful day of January 30, 2010. Who would have thought that rolling over on the couch would be so excruciating? Literally, rolling over on the couch sent shooting pains up my back and neck that I wasn't able to do anything but cry tears like I've never cried before. My mother called my cousin, who doubles as my massage therapist, and my father rushed me over to see her; I was still wearing my pajamas (don't knock Winnie the Pooh). Upon my arrival she took one look at me and said, "you're not done crying yet, follow me." Oooohhh the pain!! Apparently my rolling over caused my hip and my shoulder to pop out of place; and she was right, during my readjustments I let out cries that I'm sure had the neighbours around the corner peeking out of their gated basement windows. I had x-rays done that same week and was told that I had a benign tumour in my spine in the lower lumbar region. Great! Awesome! Fantastic!
This week I had been toying with the idea of getting back into shape and hoping that perhaps some healthy activity would assist in the rebuilding of the core muscles and make me feel better; so today I decided to go swimming! Easy right? For most people this is a great low impact workout; get in the water, splash around a little, do some laps, have a shower go home and get a great nights sleep. Well lets just say that this was not quite the reality of my situation. It started off well, packed my bag, got my swimsuit out (that I bought this past summer and only used twice), towel, shampoo (why not use their water, right?), change of clothes (or in my case my pjs) and away I went. I got changed, hoped in the pool and started doing my laps. About 6 laps in I found that my neck was hurting and my left shoulder was getting sore. I met up with my friend Eric at the pool and he mentioned that I have a funny way of swimming; he compared me to a giraffe in the water. His analogies always get me going; he said that when I swim I hold my head up instead of turning it sideways along the length of my body as I stroke through the water. I told him that my shoulder was sore too and he asked if I had stretched before I started swimming. I looked at him with my 'giraffe' eyes and he started laughing, "you need to stretch before you start swimming genius" he quips. I slapped him with my pool noodle and commented on the fact that his Movember stache makes him look like a porn star from the 70's.
When we got kicked out of the pool I went to the showers, pulled out my shampoo and went to raise my arms in order to start lathering. That too did not work out like I had originally hoped; my shoulder was so sore that I was wincing with every move. What on earth was I thinking, I haven't swam laps in years and all of a sudden I think that I'm training for the summer Olympics.
My cousin / massage therapist has told me on many occasions that my father is in better physical shape that me and that my mother's spine (after having a botched back surgery in 1997) is healthier than mine. My parents are 64 and 70 - I've had better news.
I wonder if they let 32 year olds into retirement homes.
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