When I turned 43 at the end of December, I promised myself that this would be the year I take care of my body – start exercising more, eating better. But it’s March and things haven’t changed much. Inertia is a powerful force.
I finally got myself out of bed early one morning last week and went on my first jog I’ve been on in over a year. Why don’t I do this more often, I thought. This feels great.
Lol, God said. I don’t think so.
A day after my inspiring morning run, I started having chest pains on my right side. After a trip to the doctor and an EKG, he recommended I wear a heart monitor for a week, “just to be on the safe side.” I woke up that morning a 43 year old, and went to bed an 82 year old, as I struggled in bed that night to get comfortable with, what was essentially, a circa-2004 cellphone taped to my chest.
On Tuesday, a few days after I began wearing the heart monitor, I sneezed while chatting with a friend over coffee. In doing so, I pulled a muscle in my neck and couldn’t turn my head for 3 days. I can move more freely now, but it still hurts. With the heart monitor on my chest and a stiff back, the transformation into senior citizen was complete. Or so I thought.
On Wednesday, I finally took off the heart monitor and slipped it into the case and then a pre-stamped return envelope.
On Thursday, I saw the mailwoman a few houses away and thought I’d save myself a trip to the post office by giving the package straight to her. When she started to pull away, I dashed to meet her, only to trip over my own two feet, twist my ankle and collapse on the sidewalk right next to her truck.
“Are you ok?” she asked, looking a bit panicked at my collapsed heap next to her truck.
“I’m fine,” I smiled weakly, mortified and in pain at the same time. I reached up, handed her my package, slowly got to my feet and limped away.
So now, here I am, March 25th – awaiting the results of my heart monitor test, with a stiff back and a sore ankle, and I have never felt older in my life.
It’s scary how fast things can go downhill. Just when things were looking up, down they go again.
Running three times a week feels impossible right now. But (sigh), I have to start somewhere.
I can do the next right thing. My neck stretches, my back stretches, and my ankle stretches. Fruit instead of a chocolate bar. Water instead of another coffee.
It won’t always be the right choice, but lots of little choices add up. I remember a graphic from the book, Atomic Habits, by James Clear showing how small, positive choices beget good choices and can ultimately decide whether you have a good day or a bad day. Mastering these decisive moments, Clear elucidates, set up how you’ll spend the rest of your time. “Each day is made up of many moments, but it is really a few habitual choices that determine the path you take.”
Getting into the habit of not chasing down mail trucks may be a good place to start.