A Pity Party

I felt the first rumblings of a summer cold the Friday before last. I laid low through Monday, but on Tuesday I felt well enough to get back to the gym. I hit the treadmill for a full hour, but decided not to push things by hitting the weights. I awoke Wednesday morning feeling as good as I felt all week. I was on the mend! A few hours later, however, I began to feel a tightness in my chest, and a cough followed soon after. By Friday I was on antibiotics for Bronchitis and a Sinus Infection, and I spent my whole weekend riding the couch.

It was the first time in a long time where I felt zero urge to get up and move. I didn't even feel guilty on Saturday when the most productive thing I did all day was take a shower. I knew my body needed rest. Sunday showed small signs of improvement. I made myself get dressed and went on two small outings, one to the store, and one to the movies. I was sure by Monday, my antibiotics would have stemmed the tide and would wake up sans cough with a renewed sense of energy, but Monday morning came, and I woke feeling almost as bad as I did before I started my medicine. As I readied myself for work, the pity party began. Why did my colds turn into Bronchitis? Why wasn't my healthy kick paying off? Shouldn't I at least be rebounding quicker after all the hard work I had put in? And then my husband reminded me that before I started my healthy kick, I would get struck down with bronchitis at least once a quarter. It had been six months since I kicked off my journey and this was the first time that I had needed to go on antibiotics.

So today instead of continuing the pity party, I decided to count my blessings. I might not be feeling great today, but the first seven months of 2011 were spent feeling far better than the previous year. My bronchitis would get better, I would get back to my routine and I could look forward to longer and longer periods of good health thanks to a little hard work and a village of friends who have pushed me along the way.

A Time For Reflection

It was drizzling outside yesterday morning, so I decided to take a hula-a-hoop break instead of a walk. I've become fairly proficient with my hoop now and can keep it circling fairly mindlessly, so I often find that to be a good time for quiet reflection. My mood was much like the weather, overcast. I was feeling the pain of my friend's grief at the loss of her beloved dog, anticipating having to say goodbye again to another one of my BFFs and struggling to quell the anxiety I was feeling about my youngest daughter's return to Florida.
My usual go to remedy for stress relief has been a trip to the gym, but yesterday morning, while the workout was solid, it didn't tamp down the rage of emotions inside. Perhaps if I could just keep the hula hoop spinning I could  release the endorphins, calm the mind and allow the sunshine to peak back through. So I hooped and hooped some more, and then I set to writing.

The truth is there are certain feelings you have to work through, not just work-out through. Like most of us I suspect, I would rather push aside the uncomfortable feelings, for the comfortable ones, but I've started to realize it is sometimes important to allow myself the time to feel sad or mad, anxious or fearful. My friend needed to grieve for her beloved Milo. I needed to allow myself a few moments to mourn my BFF's' departure, and I needed time to process my concerns about my daughter and where they were stemming from. I couldn't run the problems away, but running could still provide the time to reflect and some momentary solace.