Kickin' it Old School

I'm not a big fan of summer. Never have been. I'm one of those girls who burns, blisters and goes right back to the color of oh, someone who has lived in a cave for about 100 years. Add to that the fact that heat and MS don't like each other--at all--and the fact that hotter than h.e.double hockey sticks here in Cincinnati for, oh, about the last month, and it's no surprise that I haven't been doing much exercising.

Sure, I've done some swimming, but I've never been much of a pool person and then there's this whole issue.

If there's one thing I've learned recently, it's that I feel better and am more pleasant when I exercise. So since I haven't been able to do much said exercising, you can ask my family about my mood. No, better yet, strike that. I'm not sure I want to hear what they have to say.

Anyway, the other night when we were at the pool, I hopped on the swings with the kids. Now I can't tell you the last time I was on a swing. But I can tell you that I used muscles working that swing that I obviously haven't been using. I know because every one of those muscles hurt REALLY bad the next day. Funny thing is, the same thing happened after playing Let's Dance with the kids on the Wii.

So I got to thinking. I find running/walking boring...really boring. Same routes, same music, etc. But I need to exercise. I just feel better when I do, plain and simple. So I'm currently working on developing a workout for myself that takes it back a little to the time when I spent sunrise to sunset outside, well, working out. Even though I didn't realize it at the time.

So if you see me outside roller skating, playing freeze tag or riding my bike, feel free to join in. I'm just playing, I mean, exercising.

It’s All About Perspective

Last night when I was doing laundry, I came across this ratty old t-shirt. It’s an undershirt, actually, and it belongs to my son. Well, it was originally my dad’s. One night when we were at my parent's house and the kids got a bath and didn’t have any PJ’s, my dad gave it to Alex to wear home. At the time, I’m absolutely certain that my dad didn’t realize what he was actually giving my son.

Now let me back up a minute and give you some background to this story. You see, my mom is amazing when it comes to laundry. And, much like her cooking, no matter how hard I try to copy what she does, I fail. My laundry never looks as good as hers (which could have something to do with the fact that it often lays on the table in the laundry room for days). And, as my children so often point out, it NEVER smells as good as grandma’s.

But back to the t-shirt. Since the day my dad gave Alex that shirt, he has worn it over and over and over again to sleep at night. When it was dirty he would return it to my mom to wash for him. He said it didn’t smell right when I washed it. Nowadays, since I started using the same fabric softener as my mom I can get away with washing it--sometimes

For a brief moment when I grabbed it off the pile to fold it, I considered retiring it to the rag bin. But something stopped me. Sure it's  torn, old and ratty looking. But it matters to my son. For him it isn’t just a t-shirt he wears to bed. It is something his grandpa gave to him. It reminds him of grandpa and it smells like him. In short, he has a whole different perspective on that t shirt than anyone else--including me.

If I’ve learned anything over the past couple of months, it’s that perspective matters--A WHOLE LOT. How you choose to look at things can make a huge difference in your attitude. But the tricky part is that it is a choice. One you have to make every day. Some days I’m better at seeing the glass half full--I walked 4.5 miles. Other days I fail miserably--I couldn’t run those 4.5 miles. Today I choose to see things in a positive light. How about you?

The "F" Word

Fatigue, people, I mean fatigue. But for me--and others with MS--it's probably a worse word than the one you originally thought I meant. (Come on, don't deny it. That's what first popped in your head.)

Fatigue has been my biggest nemesis since I was diagnosed with MS. The other night I tried to explain it to my son by saying that when I get up in the morning--after eight or more hours of sleep--it feels like I never went to bed. I hate it.

The last time I went to my neurologist, I asked him how to battle the fatigue.

"Exercise," he said.

Excuse me? I thought, resisting the urge to flip him off. Maybe he didn't hear me say that I find the fatigue almost debilitating. I rephrased the question.

"When I wake up in the morning and feel like I've been hit by a loaded semi before I even get out of bed, how do you suggest I proceed?"

"Get some exercise."

Seriously? What is wrong with this guy? Mark grabbed my hand--this time before either my middle finger or my fist were extended.

I left the office in a huff. On the ride home, Mark, being the ever practical voice of reason, took an enormous risk and sided with the doctor.

"Maybe you should try to exercise and see how it makes you feel."

Not one to like admitting when I'm wrong--who does?--I dug in my heels. What do they know about how I feel? It's easy for them to offer suggestions.

A New Chapter

Fast forward to about a month ago to when I was told to start the shots, when I was emotionally and physically broken down, when I needed something--anything--to keep me moving forward. That's when I discovered this and things changed.

I started this blog, laced up my gym shoes and began charting a course for this next chapter in my life. It all came into focus this past week.

I did something that I haven't done in a very long time. With Mark out of town and me and the kids off for President's Day, I took the kids shopping--for a good part of the day. That was after I got up in the morning, walked for 30 minutes on the treadmill and then cleaned the house.

Now to most of you that may seem like whoop dee doo, big deal, I do that kind of stuff all the time. For me it was huge. It was the first time in I can't remember how long I actually had the energy to do something with my kids without hitting a wall halfway through the day or snapping at them because I was so exhausted. And it's happening more and more. I get up quicker, stay up longer, laugh more, have more fun, snap less and feel better.

So I will now publicly and begrudgingly admit to my neurologist and husband that I was wrong. (Take note, this will not happen often.) You were right. I've never felt better.

Houston, We Have a Problem

The weather was beautiful here in Cincy today, so I thought I'd take full advantage of it and head outside for some exercise. After dinner at my parents I helped Mark load the kids in the van, turned on my IPod and headed out for the 1.8 mile walk home.

I got about .3 miles before I realized there was a problem. See, MS affects your balance. When you walk on the treadmill there are those nice handrails you can grab onto when necessary. Not so out in the great wide open. I tried to maintain a decent pace, but the faster I walked the more off balance I became. Luckily it was dark, so no one could see me weaving all over the sidewalk like I'd been on an all-day bender.

Halfway home I started to cry. "This is so embarrassing. I look like a fool."

Three-quarters of the way home I got mad. "Damnit, why won't my body work like I want it to?" And then I pushed on. I was going to do this. I need to do this, I told myself.

When I got home, I did what I usually do when I'm not feeling so hot--I fell into Mark's arms. He always seems to know just what to say.

"Give it time," he said. "You're just starting. Your body needs to get used to it." (He then threatened to call the cops on me the next time to report a lady who was obviously intoxicated. Thanks, dear.)

In the meantime, I have to come up with a plan of action so I don't run the risk of being picked up by the po po every time I go out for a walk. I have a walking stick that my in-laws bought me last time we were in Gatlinburg, but somehow I don't think the mean streets of Delhi are the appropriate venue for using it.

So while I'm figuring out my plan, I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't point, stare, laugh or call the cops if you drive by me. I'd rather you just honk or wave and wish me luck.

Musical Inspiration

As I mentioned in a previous post, my goal is to run the Disney Princess Half Marathon next February. So now it's time to get down to business--important business. Like what music should I put on my IPod for such an endeavor?

Of course, being a girl of the '80s, I've got my fair share of MC Hammer, TLC, Beastie Boys and Rob Base on there. I've also got some AC/DC and Van Halen.

But it's certainly not enough music to carry me for half a marathon. Any suggestions for some really good running/workout/get you revved up songs?