i have recently gone through the 5 stages of loss and grief. what did i lose, you ask? my young joints and invincibility. i have kicked and screamed my way through each stage to finally come to accept my new physical self. i had to get back to that place where activity solved all of my problems, where all of the weight was taken off my shoulders, where i could let go and do something for myself and myself alone. and i have arrived. i have learned to embrace my new physical self that is a result of years of (what many would call) abuse; but i now choose to refer to as, a happy life.
Stage 1 – for years i denied that i couldn’t do it all. i pushed myself hard, even when it hurt and my body was telling me not to.
Stage 2 – i have cursed at my knee more times that i can count. my head is still as competitive and fast as it was a decade ago, but my body can’t keep up. and damn it, i am angry.
Stage 3 – ok old body, i’ll bargain with ya. i’ll take two days off of volleyball, and skip my run, so that i can hit the court hard on wednesday and everything should then feel fine. deal?
Stage 4 – this sucks and is depressing. no matter how many deals i strike with my body, she still will not cooperate and things are not improving.
Stage 5 – alright, i get it, i’m not getting any younger; and i desperately need to get back to that place. i’m going to accept my limitations, live my new version of active, and love my old bones because they are proof that i’ve lived a happy life.
this old, crickety knee, that holds me back from so much and occasionally causes me to limp, proves that i have played countless games of volleyball.
this sore back proves that i slept out under the stars.
this bruise on my thigh proves that i stopped my opponents from advancing to third base.
these scars on my shins, are proof that i did a lot of box jumps in college.
this stubbed toe, proves that i was running around outside with no shoes on.
these sore abs, prove that i completed another successful orange theory class.
these freckles covering my body, are proof that i live my life outside.
this raspberry on my knee proves that i play hard with my puppies.
these sore muscles are proof that i am forcing myself to get back into yoga.
these blisters on my feet prove that i played a full day of beach volleyball in hot hot sand.
these shin splints prove that i have logged many miles running.
these calluses on my hands are proof that i can still beat all the boys in dips.
these old bones are proof that i am living a happy life.