How My Mind Works and My Body Doesn’t

Aw friends, this might not be so much a post as an update and a peek at how my mind works.  Scary.   

I injured my back (again) in June and started seeing a chiropractic office where someone I knew had great success with their pain and mobility.  So even though I had a trusted chiropractor who worked with me when I was racing, his office was all the way out in Johns Creek.  I let the distance influence my decision in the moment and scheduled nearby with a practice that appeared to have ‘a proven track record’.    

What’s the old saying? If you only have a hammer, everything looks like a nail?  I didn’t immediately catch on that everyone who goes there gets the same therapy, decompression.   It’s great for someone who needs it.   I, however, have osteoporosis and each visit was making me worse, not better.   After 7 visits [facepalm], it finally clicked that I was engaged in something harmful TO ME. (Never mind that it was great for someone else.)  I then made an appointment with an orthopedic doctor, and I’ve been in physical therapy for the last 3 weeks. 

Is it crazy to say that I love physical therapy?  I do love it.   It’s not easy, but my pain level has dropped dramatically.  My body is so tight—some of the stretches they have me do make me laugh, like, you’re kidding, right?   

So, as all of this—injury, pain, wrong treatment, physical therapy—is occupying space in my head, I think back to my story.   

I was born with a birth defect, bilateral clubfoot.  I wore casts as a baby to straighten my legs.  While this improved the condition, it was still something I lived with, and my body learned to compensate.  I walked on the sides of my feet and my right knee pulled over in front of my left knee.   Corrective shoes were an expensive nightmare.  

Because of my legs, I couldn’t run even a block without turning an ankle.  This meant that I was the last one picked for any team sport.  Sometimes, I still wasn’t picked. I heard, “You can have her; we don’t need her.”  I was accustomed to the public shame of being passed over.  

When I got out of college, I was living in Kansas City and my roommates had a chiropractor they loved, so I made an appointment.   I asked if he could do anything about my legs.  He couldn’t make promises, but said yes, he would work with me. Initially, I would go through the ceiling as he worked on my hips and glutes where compensating muscles had turned themselves into clenched ‘fists’ as they worked overtime to support me.     

Getting those muscles to unclinch and strengthening my legs with exercises had me standing up straight, both feet flat on the floor, for the first time at 26.  

Fast forward 25 years, I applied to be on the Wellstar Weight Loss Challenge.  There are times in my life when I just know something. As much as I knew my name, I knew that I was getting on that show.   It would be the first time in my life to work with a trainer.  I had seen “The Biggest Loser” so many times, I wanted the workout.  I was dying to be the one who could flip big ass tractor tires.   

The show changed my life.  Imagine running for the first time when you are 51 years old?  I didn’t just run; I started competing in Obstacle Races.  I quickly learned that in my age group, I could not only compete, but I could platform.  My competitive gene was ecstatic. Over the next 7 years, I ran 60-some-odd races.   I loved it until my body screamed uncle and it wasn’t fun anymore.    And then I had frozen shoulder that took a full year to go through the freeze and thaw process, and then it was COVID.   

When my husband died, I wanted something that would make me want to get outside and move and feel safe doing it alone.  So, I was in my 60’s when I bought my first bicycle.  It was a godsend for my mental health and worth every penny.  I got a Townie electric pedal assist. This is not a scooter; this is a bicycle that allows you to work as hard or as easy as you choose.   It kept me motivated.  Feeling the wind on my face was exhilarating.   

It’s been a hard year for both injuries and weather, but I feel a comeback. I’m 65 and have no idea what the next adventure will be. Stick around. I think there’s going to be an encore. IYKYK