Doing What I've Always Done

In the winter of 2010-2011 I got a gym membership at work.  I used to go after work and run on the treadmill, ride the stationary bike, do push-ups, sit-ups, work with dumbbells. 

I started going because I noticed changes in myself that summer and fall.  My ankles felt weak.  I couldn’t push off the same way.  I’d go for a run and would feel like my ankles were almost locked up; like I was trying to run flat-footed.  I’d set up a box or something and jump on and off of it from side to side and front to back, trying to strengthen my ankles.

I used to work out a bit at home.  Over time I began to notice that I was not gaining strength as I used to.  My muscles were not sore the next day as I expected them to be.  My hands and wrists felt weaker. 

That winter I continued to try everything I could to gain strength.  Things didn’t feel as they always had.  I would run on the tread mill and every step felt awkward, like my body didn’t know when and where my foot would land next.  I had to concentrate on running; on making my legs move like I wanted.

At times that winter I got lazy; I got discouraged because I didn’t know what was happening and I couldn’t seem to control it.  Some weekends I sat on the couch all day and watched tv while my friends were out skiing or hiking.  I told them I didn’t feel like going.  I wonder what they thought; that wasn’t like me. 

I went snowshoeing a few times.  Snowshoeing is a bit awkward even for the strong, highly coordinated athlete.  In the cold I found it took me forever just to get the snowshoes on.  My fingers didn’t work very well in the cold.

I found I could walk okay on flat ground, and going up hills seemed alright, but going down them was another story.  Again I had to concentrate on lifting each foot and locking my ankles to keep the front of the shoes elevated.  I was convinced there was something wrong with my ankles.  I tried to run down the trail to keep up but kept digging the front of my snowshoes into the ground; flopping on my face.  My friends were so far ahead they didn’t notice how many times I fell.  They saw the snow packed into my zipper and stuck to my hat and knew I had taken a digger.  I didn’t tell them I had taken ten.

One day I finally gave up thinking I could fix it on my own; I made an appointment with my doctor.  I put my faith in someone else and a new chapter began.