"Encouragement"

Truth be told, I think I've gotten lazy.  Either that, or there is no definitive end to when my body will be "recovered" from chemotherapy.  Some days I think it's a mix of both.

Regardless, I'd like to try and push myself out of this rut that I'm in.

There are a lot of days where all I want to do is the bare minimum--which is NOT my style.  I'm usually at the front of the pack, trying to accomplish far more than has been asked of me.  I've been an over-achiever since birth.  And yet I find myself extremely un-motivated to do anything.  To get involved with anything (or anyone).  To go to work.  To hit the gym.  To clean.  To do laundry.  To cook.  To do anything at all.  I feel like I'm living on repeat from day to day.

I was talking with Lindsey the other day and we were discussing how we both really want to put more effort into getting back into shape.  So we're trying to figure out how to motivate each other--even with over 700 miles in between us.  We exchanged lists of what resources we have access to, and then based on the list, we created challenges for each other.

Her challenge to me was this:

1. Work out at least 3 days a week.
2. 45 minutes of cardio
3. 2 sets of: jumping jacks, full-body planks, mountain climbers, squats, crunches, and flys.

Easy, right?

Not so much.  I'd be dying from the cardio session if it weren't for the fact that I just finally got the a-okay from my ENT to swim.  For months, I've been waiting for my ear tube (from my previous ear problem) to fall out, and it's finally gone!  I can't walk uphill for 45 minutes without heaving like a sick horse, but I can swim like a fish for a long time, no problem.

Oddly enough, the loudest voice in my head encouraging me to finish these challenges successfully isn't my own.   It's Travis Pierce.  

Travis is a friend of mine from back home.  We both attended Surefire Boot Camp for several months, and when we attended class at the same time, he was usually the person that I would try to beat out.  Sometimes I did, and sometimes he cheated.... and occasionally, he would beat me honestly.  No matter where we were in the workout though, I could count on Travis to trash talk encourage me.

Now, whenever I need motivation at the gym, even though I'm hundreds of miles away, one of the first things that comes to mind is Travis, saying, "C'MON BREKKE!!  IS THAT ALL YOU GOT??"  So I push harder and fight longer.  The memory of him taunting encouraging me helps me keep going.

And although it will be quite some time before Travis and I can go head to head again at Surefire, when that day comes, I need to be ready.

Because I don't like to be the cheater.

So bring it on Travis.

See you "soon."

Old at Heart

It's not uncommon for me to feel old.  Usually it's because I'm an overly-serious, budget-conscious homebody whose visions of fun involve reading and cooking.  Oh--can I deviate for a second and just tell you that being too serious is a characteristic of my personality type?  Yep.  I read it on Wikipedia.  Anyway, lately I've been feeling older than normal, but yesterday especially.

The directions for the drops I'm taking for my ear infection say to lay on your side and let them soak in for about 10-15 minutes before moving around.  And what better to do while laying on your side than sleep?  I really can't DO anything during this time that would involve moving around, and watching TV or talking to Isaac is near impossible because not only is the ear facing upward the one full of drops, it's also the one that we're pretty sure I ruptured, which means I hear static in it now 24/7.  Anyway, I'm supposed to take one set of these drops twice a day and the other as needed.  The "as needed" drops are the ones that numb my ear and are recommended to be used every 4-6 hours.  Needless to say, I've been getting plenty of unintentional naps in.

On top of that, I've started a little herb garden.  Meg mailed me some seeds as a surprise in the mail when we first moved here because she'd moved away from home the year before and found growing things to be somewhat therapeutic.  She started me out with jalapenos and cilantro--two of her favorite things.  I didn't have the basic necessities to grow things though, and so I went to Target and did something that I NEVER thought I would do.  I paid for dirt.  Yes, DIRT.

It was $6 plus tax.

Oh my.  Until moving to Michigan, this was equivalent with paying for air.

In addition to my naps and herbs, I've also started to walk extremely slowly and carefully due to my port--kind of like how older people move with their walkers and canes.  It's not that it's painful, it's just weird to have something permanently on your chest.  There is a cord running from the port up and over my collarbone as well, and that's probably the most awkward part of it.  Again, it's not painful per se, it's just a really weird sensation.

I'd try and describe it for you.  The port itself is actually anchored on my left pectoral (right under the greenish bruise).  When I raise my left arm, I can actually feel the port moving WITH MY PEC off toward the side of my body.  I can also feel my skin stretching tight over it as well.  Yep.  Awkward.  In addition to the port shifting with my movements, the cord does as well; sliding back and forth over about a 1/2" section of my collarbone.  The "pain" from the pressure of the cord on my clavicle is similar to a ponytail headache.  That's the best way I can describe it.  I keep wanting to reach over and pull the cord off--which I can't do because it's IN my body--because my mind tells me that if I did, it would alleviate the discomfort.  Sometimes I think I can feel the cord shifting inside my body too, like a little worm wiggling around.  That was mostly after the surgery though; it seems to be pretty well settled in there now.

Yeah.  Just thinking about it sometimes makes me a little uncomfortable...

The kicker to my "old" formula, is that I feel extremely out of shape now.  Yesterday I asked Isaac if he would be sweet enough to walk around outside with me because I just miss the sun and the fresh air and moving around.  He agreed, and we set off for our walk around the complex around 8pm.  We walked at a moderate pace, and I kid you not, when we got back, I was ready for a nap.  I felt so incredibly pathetic.

Three months ago, I could run a couple miles without blinking.  I could throw around 35-40 lb. kettlebells and not even feel that winded.  I would get up religiously at 4:30am four to five days a week to go workout simply because I love to be active and I enjoy the rush from it.  And now, I'm tired after walking less than a mile?  Are you kidding me?

As you might guess, I felt like a big pile of poo.  Isaac did his best to comfort me, reminding me that I'm still not 100%, I'm recovering from surgery, and that I haven't worked out faithfully so of course my body is regressing.  The first two I was okay with.  The last makes me feel like a slacker.  In my delirious desire to redeem my pre-michigan fitness level, I asked if I could go to the gym.  He smiled at me and said sure, I could go tonight if I wanted.  And then I realized why he was smiling.

I avoid the weight area at our gym because it's filled with macho-men on steroids who stare at themselves in the mirror and look at you like a fresh-cooked meal if you walk on two legs and don't have a penis.  Instead, I swim.  ...But I can't swim with an ear infection.  Turd.

Needless to say, I'll continue to work my green thumb, spend an excessive amount of time napping, and huff and puff like a life-long smoker after walking around the block until my ear is fixed.  And then I think I'll be investing in ear plugs to avoid this situation in the future.