It has been 365 days like no other.
28 days after I turned 53, my Mom died.
It wasn’t unexpected that my Mom died. She had been sick for quite some time. There is still nothing like it when it happens.
I remember feeling like I was living out of body for the first few months. The physical effects of losing one’s Mom, were surprising to me. I knew I would be emotional. I would miss her. A million ways and more. But the physical feeling of a chunk being removed from my being was unexpected.
For the first few months, I overshared my thoughts about my Mom, via video. While it helped me, I was glad when it ran it’s course. I’m sure others were too.
Fitness-wise, I recall continuing to jog through grief and go to classes. I remember the first few classes felt heavy. A blur.
Along the way, things stayed much the same with my fitness routine — I love my running and strength classes. However, the venues changed in some cases. The strength classes moved around and now I have been enjoying a regular place a couple times a week, even though it is a 40 min walk in the morning, to get there. Sometimes, a good friend is there too and that’s a bonus. I also recently tried a new class with a familiar coach and loved it. This is different than the seven or so years I spent going to one place. Overall, change can be good.
I have experienced both old and new sensations while running/jogging, also. Sometime in early spring, the vertigo I experienced a couple of years ago (around the same time of year) returned. One week I had the best post-winter run of the year and the next, the world was spinning again, if I moved to fast and, sometimes, when I was only attempting to walk. Thankfully, I learned some tricks the first time this happened and I was able to move through it and get back to normal running again by the beginning of May.
While running is feeling really good and I am working on getting a good pace back, I am also noticing my body needs a bit more rest in between a long run followed by a heavy strength day. Will age help me listen to that intelligence? Sometimes, I am forced to slow down on “in between days” whether I listen to the messages or not.
I find myself craving more movement and stretching in my hips and lower body and find myself taking some mornings to simply move through supportive exercises in my living room.
Overall, I have been feeling much more like myself again, for several months. At least — the self that continues to evolve, if we are lucky enough to age. The evolution feels less about the grief of the last year and more like typical 50-something changes, in an ever changing world. A world full of wonders, delights, simple moments, frustration, stress, monotony, sadness, joy and horrors. Yesterday, I was going to add “not bad for 54” to by Strava run comments but I went for “Grateful for another year”. That feeling deepens with each year. The gratitude. The inability to take anything for granted. The immense sense of privilege I have to age – and – in the part of the world where I was fortunate to be born with so many built-in advantages. I hope I learn how to support those less fortunate, in a really useful way, with each year I am granted.
Several years ago, while running, I started using the mantras, “I am. I can. I will. I do” (thank you, Christine D’arcole). Then I added “Thank you”. (Just to my body for being able to do things) “Envision” (when I was looking for a job). I would find that these mantras would automatically kick in, somewhere along the route.
A couple of years ago, when I first had that vertigo problem, I added things like, “Fuck it”, “Just Run”. This was because the vertigo would have me start jogging, stopping within a block because of spinning head.” Starting again. Over and over. This would create more anxiety and make things worse. Sometimes, the most helpful thing to think for my anxious brain was, “Fuck it”, “Just Run!”
This time, when the vertigo returned, but then started getting better, I’ve start adding, “It’s just a feeling”, “Don’t take the short cut”. This helped me get past the stop/starting and into a familiar and pleasant groove.
A boxing coach used to tell us, if people were pushing past a tough point in an abs section or running up a hill, “It’s just a feeling”. Of course, people know when it is more than a feeling and to stop but, if one is feeling good and know they can do it, I find this prompt helpful. It is not just the vertigo. A slow running winter and those middle age aches have required that I get some of my cardio up again so that I can push past my delicious comfort zone, into an even more delectable endorphin dessert. It helps if I remind myself that some discomfort can be nothing but a feeling to move through and past.
Once again, running is not unlike other parts of life – such as moving through grief experienced when losing a loved one. Sometimes you just need to move through it. Sometimes you get to another side where your Mom is there, just in a different way. She is the air that you breathe in and the sunrise on a walk to work or a ladybug on your shoulder. You can’t take a shortcut to move past the uncomfortableness and onto the good stuff.
