I would walk 7,500 steps…
Starting something new is hard; starting something over again from the beginning is even harder - especially if your abilities aren’t what they once were. What’s easy is looking back and lamenting all you’ve lost, getting into a depressive funk, and monstering a bag of chips while binge watching Netflix. Rinse. Lather. Repeat.
Recently, I started walking with my treadmill bluetooth connected to my ipad and a program called IFit. It automatically syncs your workout and adjusts both speed and incline based on your ability and the type of activity in your training video. I’ve had the treadmill for eons and my ipad for about two years, but I only committed to walking daily a few months ago. Why did I wait so long? Because I don’t like pain.
A ridiculous number of so-called exercise programs for “beginners” are decidedly not for beginners at all (unless of course your starting point is reigning CrossFit champion). I’m 42 years old and in the process of falling out of the medical mishap tree, I hit every branch on the way down: two surgeries before age three to correct a birth defect of my right kidney, removing said kidney at age twenty when it died, a gallbladder removal, endometriosis, a total hysterectomy which was a complete shit show for another post, arthritis in my knees and hips, fibromyalgia, and all of my internal organs are bound together with adhesions. I have my own internal Death Star. Suffice it to say, my starting point is woman with no bones emerging from a soup can.
It hasn’t always been like this. Yes, I’ve spent a chunk of my life in and out of the hospital, and yes, I’ve never been a stranger to chronic pain, but I was always able to power through somehow. I was on the swim team in high school, and I’ve had seasons of weekly personal training at the gym peppered with mild outdoor adventures. I was never what you’d call “athletic” but I also wasn’t sedentary by any measure of the word. Every time I had a surgery or setback, I’d claw my way out of the proverbial hole kicking and screaming until I could function, more or less, like an average adult.
This last surgery though, the hysterectomy and everything that led up to it, really kicked my ass. Since 2018 it’s been a downhill free fall coupled by a face plant into a brick wall called turning 40. I’m chronically exhausted and in pain. I’ve gained an enormous amount of weight and my ADHD has gone off the rails.
I left my job of eight years as a high school English teacher in 2017 and bounced from subbing, to office admin work, to now being unemployed because everything hurts and I’m dying. But, I still refuse to let this be my story. I have adventures left in me, I just know it, and so I picked up my ipad, and got on the treadmill and said let's do this.
Whether it was divine providence or just the best of coincidences, IFit had a program called “Road to Recovery” with a trainer named Tommy Rivs. Turns out this guy has ran ultra marathons and swam with sharks, but he also fell out of a proverbial tree in 2020 when he was diagnosed with an incredibly rare kind of lymphoma. He’s clawing his way back too and it’s truly awe inspiring to witness. Really, give him a Google - I’ll wait.
Pretty amazing right? So this “Road to Recovery” series is truly beginner - woman with no bones in a soup can beginner. It starts with no inclines at a duration of less than 10 minutes and a speed of barely moving (for me that was 1.4 miles an hour). The truly life changing part has been all the wisdom I’ve absorbed like a tiny, hungry little sponge. Tommy speaks several languages, loves art and history and literature, and isn’t afraid to pick up a jellyfish on the beach.
A few weeks back on one of our walks in Spain, he shared one of his favorite quotes by Ernest Hemingway, “a man can be destroyed but not defeated”. Tommy ruminated on the idea that no matter how bad things get, how hopeless things feel, even if we are, in every respect destroyed, we can still persist. We can rebuild - over and over again. Even if life doesn’t look like it once did, even if everything has changed, we can choose to rebuild with what we have now.
I have chosen to embrace this philosophy with reckless abandon. I may have started this journey with no bones, in a soup can, at 1.4 miles an hour for 9 minutes - but I started. I put one shaky foot in front of the other and I walked. Now, nearly 3 months later, I am averaging 7,500 steps a day, going for nearly 25 minutes per session at 2.4 miles an hour. I choose to celebrate this, to remind myself that there was a time just a few short years ago that I could barely stand for as long as it took to shower, that I had a walker with a seat because I couldn’t make it across the grocery store. These 7,500 precious steps are a milestone and a victory.
I might have been destroyed, and I may yet be destroyed again, but I will never be defeated. My husband and I have started planning once a month road trips. We’re going to see museums, botanical gardens, historical sites - beautiful places that remind me of just how damn lucky I am to be alive. I’m pushing myself a tiny bit at a time, working on forming those bones. Whatever your story, and wherever you’re starting point, know that it’s not always about fanfare and momentous victories, it’s about having the courage to start.