fitness and nutrition, health

Aches

Oh my quads. 

Oh no my pec muscles.

Geez my triceps hurt too.

Oh my traps.

Oh my hip flexors are undeniably tight.

Oh my hammies. Yes, my hamstrings hurt too.

Oh my ass and all those fibers in the gluteus maximus. They all hurt. A slight bend or shift and I feel them all.

The hinge. The doorway stretch. They help but they show tightness that one can’t see. What would my body look like under my skin?

No joke. Everything seems to be achy this Tuesday morning. Was I hit by a car? No. It’s the after effects of the Murph Hero WOD I did on Monday. I’ve been doing this workout for the past five years and I never remember being this sore.

Is it old age?

Did I lack preparation?

Did I not warm up properly?

Was I sleep deprived?

I am sure there was a combination of all of the above. I also probably didn’t fuel my body as well as I could have the weekend prior either. Now I’m suffering.

I had a nap late Tuesday. My body said it was a requirement. I didn’t fight the urge. It helped my recovery. I slept in Wednesday. Something I hardly ever do. My body said thank you. I’m getting less sore by the minute.

Why suffer? Why would I even think about doing this workout again? The irony is I will probably do this again for many more years to come. Maybe not for the aches afterwards but for the tribute to those who are no longer able to do the workout. 

Soldiers lost in the line of duty. Soldiers suffering with a lifelong injury. Soldiers suffering in silence. Veteran near and far whom I honor.

My pain is temporary. I’m able to write about it and get on with my life even if I move slower. I’m still moving.

This years pain and suffering was an honor. A badge of courage. Another tribute year in the books. As I end this post I will most likely head to bed early again today for yet another round of rest!

perspective

Eyes to the Horizon

We are in the thick of this.

Hard times.

It reminds me of the lessons I learned from Chad. We are in the long stretch in the middle. Maybe the 500 mark or so. Where the flurry of just getting started is over. We are grinding one. step. at. a. time. There doesn’t seem to be a light at the end of the tunnel. Only more drudgery and challenge. I am getting tired. Not just physically tired, but tired of it all, too. Giving up seems an option worth entertaining, especially with new worries on the horizon.

But I don’t.

Every day I have to just keep going.

Like Chick 1 put it so well in her post, we are going to have to choose to soar, and we might be a little beaten up sore to get to that point.

It’s like a butterfly in the cocoon stage. We know we will come out significantly different than when we wrapped ourselves in. Did you know that caterpillars basically dissolve into goo while they’re in the cocoon? To transform into their destined selves, they have to basically melt into mush.

How many of us are there some days?

I have to keep my eyes to the horizon. Just as Chick 1 reminded me that I am going to endure some sore to get to my soar, I know that the gooey mess I am now is on its way to becoming something beautiful, maybe even unrecognizable.

A post reminded me that after the profoundly awful Spanish Flu Pandemic, the Roaring 20s came rushing forth. We will get through this. It will not be easy. I have no doubt we will all lose something, many of us things that are profound and irreplaceable. But our world will come roaring back to prosperity, creativity, and hopefully some amazing parties with dresses, dancing, and all the pent up joy, merriment and connection we are missing out on now.

Stay hopeful.