Next Level Extreme Fitness

How I am learning to "Do Better. Be Better." after the cavernoma malformation in the pons of my brainstem bled.

Tuesday, July 5, 2016

Introducing Jamie 3.0

Insert LARGE sigh here.

There are times when I could write only that and publish a post.  A good sigh can describe a rainbow of emotions.  Today is one of those days.  Actually, the last two days would fit the bill.  

Let's backtrack a week.  From June 20-July 1, I completed the Sensory Learning Program at Dr. Fitzgerald and Associates in Cedar Rapids to help my eye shift back to center.  I will write about that more in detail later, but one of the crazy things about this program is that the sensory input you receive matches your body's natural energy level.  For me that meant turning me in to GSD on steroids.  No joke.  So, being me, I decided that I was feeling well enough to start exercising and that I was going to try to start running again or- really crazy-I was going to start the July 5 session of NLXF.  

Last Monday I woke up and went for a run (if that's what you call what I do now).  I turned right out of our driveway and straight up the hill.  Apparently, I was trying to conquer the world because I have NO idea why I thought going up a hill RIGHT AWAY was smart.  I made it two blocks before I HAD to stop.  My left leg felt like it had a 25 pound weight tied to it.  It didn't even feel like I was bending my knee or picking my foot up off the ground.   I had expected that since I dealt with the same thing after my first stroke.  However, this heaviness was on a whole other level.  And my lungs!  I have been out of shape before, but this was different.  I am pretty sure I was swallowing hot lava as I breathed, or more adequately described, gasped.  To top it all off, my mental head space was drowning in negativity.  What in the hell are you thinking?  You cannot do this.  You just had brain surgery.  Not a chance you are doing NLXF in a week.  Why do you always do this to yourself?

I got to the corner and I almost turned around for home.  I looked back and then I looked to where I wanted to go.  I stood there for a moment while I gathered my bearings, my thoughts spinning.  Finally, I said to myself, If you can make it through two strokes and a brain surgery, you can go on a 20 minute run.  Just revamp your goals. Be smart about this.  So I did and I made it.  

I went to therapy that day and the pool after.  I felt amazing.  The next morning, I went to therapy again and ended up having some pretty severe bouts of vertigo during it. I have learned that this is my body's new way of telling me that I have pushed too hard.  I was fuming mad.  Not only did it interrupt my therapy, but it deflated me.  I had finally gotten a little bit of normalcy back just to have it taken away.  

I was forced to take the rest of the week off until therapy was done.  On Saturday morning, I got up and ran again.  This time, instead of running two blocks, walking two blocks, I only walked four blocks the entire time.  I had adapted to my leg and practiced breathing techniques to calm myself.  I know it sounds crazy to have this much improvement in just one run, but adaptability has become the name of the game for me the last two and a half years.  I have become very good at listening to my body and being able to adjust accordingly.

Then came yesterday.  My improvement had left me with a false sense of confidence.   Plus, it was my four month surgeryaversary.  Let's celebrate!  I went to the lake by where we live and set a goal to run around the entire thing--NO WALKING.  I got half way around and couldn't do it anymore.  I had to stop and walk.  As I did, tears began to stream down my face and I continued to cry until I finished.  I was so frustrated with myself mentally and physically.  I was upset that I had "mentally quit"--that I didn't have the toughness to do it.  And physically, well, if I could have unzipped out of my body and found a different one, I probably would have.

I walked a total of ONE block the ENTIRE run and it ruined my spirit for the majority of the day.  I had quit.  My body sucks.  I want to be better NOW.  RIGHT NOW.

But the worst thought.......I AM TIRED OF TRYING SO DAMN HARD.   ALL. THE. TIME.  AT EVERYTHING.  

Oh, that is not a good road to go down mentally.  That thought spiraled in to the I wish's, what if's, if only's, and why's.  And do I tell anyone about it?  Nope.  I keep it in, try to bury it, and then take my frustration about my situation out on everyone around me.  I'm awesome, I know.

Halfway through the day, I pulled up Facebook to check a message and the very first thing on my news feed was this quote from Pat Summit:

"Whatever it is that you desire to do in life, have the courage and the commitment to do it, and to do it to your absolute best."

Ding, ding, ding!  And just like that I came back.  My best looks different than what it was three years ago, 1 year ago, and even two weeks ago.  My best is constantly changing.  As long as I keep making sure that I push myself to whatever my best is at that given moment, than I have won.  I know I have the courage and the commitment to do that.  My damn ego just gets in the way sometimes.  :)

Welcome to today.  I woke up at 4:55, did my eye therapy, and headed to NLXF with my wonderful husband, who gets the brunt of my "stubborn as an oxe" shining personality.  :)  I was greeted by a bunch of warm hugs and happy hellos and I instantly knew I was right at home.  Then, I realized that it was a black Monday sort of workout and I had a moment of doubt- I shouldn't be here.  But, I reminded myself to focus on my best, whatever that was today.  And I did.  I never pushed too hard and I was completely fine with that.  I gave myself grace and what a difference that made.  I completed more than I thought I could, even the entire four minutes of hell, and I sweat through my shirt..... I was in heaven.  I was blissfully happy the entire time.

I think my Facebook post says it all,

Four months ago I had brain surgery. Today, I spent my morning at Next Level Extreme Fitness. NEVER would I have expected to say that and in fact, I can hardly believe that I am. One of these days I am going to wake up from this dream and find myself waiting to head in to surgery. Until then, I am going to send thanks to God that I am able to relish in the soreness that I already feel from the gazillion squats and lunges I just did.



I think what I have really learned is that my strokes and my brain surgery are a part of me.  

They have challenged me. 
They have changed me.
They have made me.  

I'd like to introduce you to Jamie 3.0.  :)