So...it's been many years since I had the time to write a blog post. Years. Why years? Because I was overwhelmed. My dog died which left a huge hole in my heart, but also removed my reason for a daily walk. Have I ever mentioned that I feel as though I need a purpose or destination to justify a walk? So, after MinBo was gone, and the pandemic started, I divided time between working on my own business, helping with my husband's mother's care, dealing with the aftermath of a devastating fire that required nearly two years of attention, trying to be a good wife and mother, and in this process I was least attentive to my own needs. SURPRISE. As if that isn't always the case with me.
One day, maybe two years ago now, I woke up and realized I was in pain all the time. I never could sleep well because my body hurt if I lay in the same position too long. I hurt when I walked. My knees, which had always been strong, suddenly couldn't squat. It was really devastating to feel that way, especially since I'd had much higher levels of fitness. This did not mean I stopped doing anything - including working on refurbishing a house - but I did it in pain. And then I stepped on the scale and was horrified at the number. I decided to have some bloodwork done because I wanted to make sure I hadn't done irreparable damage, and discovered that my thyroid was even more out of whack than ever and my blood sugar was inching toward prediabetes. We got my thyroid back in a good range, I lost 25 pounds (diet only), and we got a new puppy, so my (oh-so-very-slow) walks resumed. I concentrated on getting strength back in my quads with supported squats and crouching whenever possible. It worked and my knees are grateful.
There were some family transitions and, when the business was settled, my husband and I agreed that we needed to take a long-postponed trip. We both wanted to see Italy and France, so I got to planning. Six months I planned our itinerary, researched trains and hotels, and organized side trips to visit friends. About a month before we were to leave I realized I needed to get my body ready to walk, and did a little more exercise and lost a little more weight. One of my core personality traits is determination, so I knew that even if I wasn't fit enough, I would push through each day. Also, I knew that walking in Italy would take my mind off any pain I felt.
Italy was everything I had hoped and we walk everywhere! It was gorgeous and fun and exhausting and invigorating all at once! We walked all over Rome and by the 4th day I felt more fit and ready to explore Tuscany. By Cinque Terre and Florence I was actually eager to walk all day. By Venice I was a walking warrior, and by Paris I was unstoppable. Then we came home. Despite eating and drinking everything we desired on vacation, I'd lost 7 pounds and several inches. I knew it was as simple as walking, but how could I justify walking so much without a purpose?
I resumed walking the dog every other day, and would add a personal walk each day. I accomplished decent distances, but I felt guilty about walking and not actually doing anything. I still had to make calls for work, shop, take care of the house, work in the garden...how was I going to fit in a walk for myself on top of that. And then today, an epiphany: I am the job. I am the reason. My long-term health is the goal and the purpose. How could it have taken this long to figure that out?
