“Around, around, around, around…over, under, through”-Grover, Sesame Street
It’s been a year since I put my best foot forward and leapt into uncharted territory. Lying in a heap on the sidewalk, I began my journey with an avulsion fracture of the patella and complete rupture of my quadriceps tendon, which is to say, my drumstick got yanked off my thigh. Each step since my surgery has been like some sort of emotional Mud Run; trudging through pain, wrestling weakness, hurdling fear, questioning my ability to prevail over a seemingly endless set of obstacles. People have asked me if I’m “all better” now. And given where I was, now is definitely better.
But am I all better?
God, I hope not. I mean, this cannot possibly be the finish line, right?
My strategy for recovery has been simple: Walk the line from Point A to Point B. Upright and moving forward, every day. I vowed to practice patience and maintain a conservative pace. I determined that I would know when I arrived at point B because I would feel the way I used to feel. My legs and heart would move like they used to move, and I would look like I used to look.
But maybe.
Maybe the challenge is not really linear. Maybe there is more than one direction, like a dance, a lap, a loop, and I am neither ahead nor behind. It has occurred to me that my position is more like a You Are Here notation on a trail map. Perhaps this is the only spot for me to be in because, as it happens, this is the only spot I am in right now. I can’t un-run my race or be where I used to be because that point in time no longer exists. My pace, stride, direction, distance traveled, even those who have cheered me on from the sidelines, have transformed who I am now.
I have to keep reminding myself: When you go around the track, Loren, even when you get back to the starting point, you are decidedly NOT the same as you were when you started.
I have clients who come to me, lamenting that they used to be thin or fit or strong. Before the baby, the husband, the death of a loved one, the stress, the job, the injury, the heartache. There was a setback and now they must start all over and try to, in the words of the great Captain and Tennille “Get right back to where we started from”. But despite this catchy seventies hook, I think it’s time to consider that we can never go back to where we once were. What we can do is create a new possibility for ourselves, who we will be in this moment and the next, with what we have and what we haven’t, with what is and what isn’t.
I am not completely comfortable with this concept. But with each passing day, it becomes clearer to me that the only point is the one I am standing in, toes on the starting line every day. So here I go, around, around, around, around…over, under, through.
If you are ready to put your toes on the line, join me at www.fitnessbyloren.com/get-started.html
It’s been a year since I put my best foot forward and leapt into uncharted territory. Lying in a heap on the sidewalk, I began my journey with an avulsion fracture of the patella and complete rupture of my quadriceps tendon, which is to say, my drumstick got yanked off my thigh. Each step since my surgery has been like some sort of emotional Mud Run; trudging through pain, wrestling weakness, hurdling fear, questioning my ability to prevail over a seemingly endless set of obstacles. People have asked me if I’m “all better” now. And given where I was, now is definitely better.
But am I all better?
God, I hope not. I mean, this cannot possibly be the finish line, right?
My strategy for recovery has been simple: Walk the line from Point A to Point B. Upright and moving forward, every day. I vowed to practice patience and maintain a conservative pace. I determined that I would know when I arrived at point B because I would feel the way I used to feel. My legs and heart would move like they used to move, and I would look like I used to look.
But maybe.
Maybe the challenge is not really linear. Maybe there is more than one direction, like a dance, a lap, a loop, and I am neither ahead nor behind. It has occurred to me that my position is more like a You Are Here notation on a trail map. Perhaps this is the only spot for me to be in because, as it happens, this is the only spot I am in right now. I can’t un-run my race or be where I used to be because that point in time no longer exists. My pace, stride, direction, distance traveled, even those who have cheered me on from the sidelines, have transformed who I am now.
I have to keep reminding myself: When you go around the track, Loren, even when you get back to the starting point, you are decidedly NOT the same as you were when you started.
I have clients who come to me, lamenting that they used to be thin or fit or strong. Before the baby, the husband, the death of a loved one, the stress, the job, the injury, the heartache. There was a setback and now they must start all over and try to, in the words of the great Captain and Tennille “Get right back to where we started from”. But despite this catchy seventies hook, I think it’s time to consider that we can never go back to where we once were. What we can do is create a new possibility for ourselves, who we will be in this moment and the next, with what we have and what we haven’t, with what is and what isn’t.
I am not completely comfortable with this concept. But with each passing day, it becomes clearer to me that the only point is the one I am standing in, toes on the starting line every day. So here I go, around, around, around, around…over, under, through.
If you are ready to put your toes on the line, join me at www.fitnessbyloren.com/get-started.html
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