Day 334 of 365: Most of Me

I went to bed last night noticing that my right wrist was clicking weirdly. I woke up today with my wrist swollen. Thankfully, we have all the equipment needed when a wrist goes funky (since my husband injured his sometime in 2009). Nothing like a wrist brace and an ice pack to really make you feel functional.


Since the weather is finally beautiful (after half a week of soup weather and another half of hurricane weather), I went out for a walk. Within half a mile, I could already feel the tightness in my strained hamstring tendon and the soreness in my pulled right hamstring (thankfully the locking right knee went away on its own -- although my way of getting around that knee issue probably led to my pulled hamstring). And I only had one thought in my head:


"God, it sucks getting old."


I remember eating pavement as a kid and being perfect fine. I remember twisting my ankle during track practice and having zero issues the next day. For crying out loud, I had my thumb kicked in the opposite direction when I was in the seventh grade (I was playing the part of goalie during a Field Day soccer game, and a very competitive player from the opposing team decided a ball getting lifted up by the goalie was still fair game) and ended up with nothing more than a throbbing hand. Now I get stabbing pains in my neck if I look to the side too quickly.


My husband tried to warn me. When I was 23 and he was 28, he tried to tell me that he was getting old and injured and that it happened as early as your late twenties. And here I am, toeing in on 28, with the exact same issues.


Well, all I can say that is that it's not worth fighting it. Down that path lies some frightening tactics to say "youthful" in all senses of the word. I might not have the body I had when I was 20 (and, sadly, I totally did not utilize the body that I had at 20, which is a bemoaning for another time), but I'm still happy to have most of me around. I might not be going into any hand- or headstands anytime soon (and *just* when I learned out to kick my legs out to the side and up to get into a handstand. Motherfucker) but I still have the ability to do a type of yoga that will fit my physicality. I might be out of marathon training -- and I might be forced to not sign up for the Boston Half Marathon -- but I am still able to go outside on beautiful days like today and stroll around with music in my ears.


So I might not be 100%, but I'm 100% thankful to still have what still remains.