If a picture paints 1,000 words, maybe I should take up painting

Yesterday was a quiet, peaceful morning. At 10 a.m. I needed to leave for my speech therapy appointment. I went to say goodbye to Kara and found her taking a well-deserved morning nap. You see, she oversees the kid send-off every day from 5:30-8:30 a.m. and then has been going to the gym all week. Yesterday she took a day off from the gym and I as I kissed her goodbye, I realized that I didn’t want to go. It has been four months of drills, scopes, stretches and exercises and I’m not certain that the “improvement” is not imagined. I’m so tired of the whole thing. I just wanted to crawl into bed too and hide from the whole deal.

However, I cannot afford to give up hope. (Besides, I know she didn't want any company.)  I went because I still hope. Yesterday the motivating factor was that I hope that I will always be able to tell Kara how beautiful she is and that I love  her. (Even this is not a matter of speech; the words do not exist.)

Fall is in the Air

Yesterday I set a new record. I realize that a daily update of my jogging progress is not only unnecessary, it doesn't make for good reading: I went a bit farther today; it was hard.

So I thought today I'd actually show you my block from Google Earth. I start jogging at the upper little yellow box and run clockwise along the sidewalk. (I added the little yellow boxes, they are not really there.) Yesterday I made it all the way to the second box, the first house on the street parallel to mine. Almost half way!

This morning I almost made it to the second walkway. You know, every day I stop when I think I'm about to fall, but I'm never 100% sure that a fall was imminent. I didn't have to worry about that today as my hands actually outdistanced my feet. Yes, I turfed it. You know, I jog on the sidewalk in part so that if I begin to fall, I can try to go either left or right and have a soft grassy landing. But that's just the thing about falling, it often comes with precious little, if any, warning. And so it was today. I mean, I was laboring, and probably should not have been pushing SO hard to reach my goal, but in an instant I was prostrate on the pavement, with a painful 4-pronged searing: both knees and the heels of my hands. Youchie.

I was only down for about ten seconds, and then I was back on my feet. My hands were scraped but not bleeding. I didn't want to look at my knees just yet. It really stung, BUT I didn't cry! (Apparently I cry easily at sadness, not pain.)

I am happy to report that I did not hit my head or face, and that nothing seems to be broken, twisted, fractured, or strained. Just a pair of skinned knees. Kara, who would have laughed aloud if she'd witnessed it, wasn't laughing when she saw my knees. She said, "Maybe you shouldn't run anymore." Maybe she's right, but I'm not ready to let go just yet; I just need to be better about knowing my limits, and today was a good little lesson with a relatively small price paid. (Well, I've made the down payment and I've financed this lesson over 2 or 3 days.) Also, I could start wearing protective grar or jogging on the grass part of our Hike n' Bike trail. Lots of options.

Jogging Buddy

This morning Ryan agreed to accompany me on my daily jog/walk. Before I began I warned him that he might be pleasantly surprised the first minute, but that after a trot and a stroll, my walking gets pretty bad, and I look pretty retarded. He did not appreciate this disclaimer, as if I were implying that he might be embarrassed. He is over that, if he ever had it.

Yesterday I could not make it all the way to the corner, but that is OK, I understand that every day I may not go farther than the last. But this morning I really wanted to reach the corner. This would be the first time I had an audience, and it was my son no less.  I began my mini trek and Ryan jogged alongside, providing encouragement such as "Feet up, you can do it, feet up, c’mon.”

If there were ever a man encouraged and motivated, it was me this morning. Who wouldn’t be? However, in a striking reminder that grit seems to be impotent against my foe, my feet stopped twenty feet short of my goal. I could not have exerted more. Oh well. Maybe Monday.

We continued our walk and, true to my warning, the last few home lengths were a real chore for me. As I cautiously headed up our walkway, and successfully navigated the one step, Ryan started singing the Rocky theme song. How perfect was that?  Maybe I'll take him along more often.

Things are Going South

I have turned the corner in my recent jogging trial. Literally. I made it to the corner (6 ½ home lengths) and kept going another 30 feet. So after a week of exclusively jogging into the morning sun, I have now done a bit of southward ambling.

Do you know what hurts the most when I am finishing the last few feet? You’ll never guess. It is my larynx, the whole underside of my jaw, actually. I guess it makes sense in a way. My otolaryngologist and speech therapists have explained that we carry a lot of anxiety there, and a big part of my therapy is unwinding that stress. When I am jogging, anxiety temporarily spikes as I fear that at any step I may crash headlong into the pavement. I’m sure this anxiety isn’t good for my voice, but it is only a temporary anxiety that is remedied by a leisurely stroll through my neighborhood. OK, that's not entirely true, I’m still anxious out there walking on fatigued legs, but it sounds better than “before a leisurely sit at my desk.”

More Progress

I really didn’t feel like taking the jog/walk again today but I did it anyway. I have to remind myself that this whole premise is doing something that my body doesn’t feel like doing, pretty much ever. And it is blazing hot out there. That doesn’t help.

I actually felt pretty OK and in control the first home length. I focused on lifting my legs during the second length and during the third I noticed some soft, involuntary groaning. I think it must help. Three was my goal today. But when I reached the third walkway I didn’t stop. This was becoming terribly uncomfortable but what did I expect? A lounge chair on the Mexican gulf coast? I made it to the 4^th walkway and then had to stop.

OK, my quick reckoning makes that about 100 yards (the homes in our neighborhood are pretty large). Am I really disabled if I can jog 100 yards? Is it not disrespectful to people who really are handicapped and struggle to amble 3 feet? I mean no disrespect, but I don’t categorize myself as immobile, at least not yet. My disabilities are more in the vision/vocal fields but clearly there is something wrong with gait, coordination, balance, and leg strength.

Why do I even have these thoughts? It’s not like I’m cheating the MS gods or anything. I continue to be hopeful that I can accomplish my one lap goal, even though I know it may not be possible and I know I’m not going to be on the medal stand for it. Well, maybe if they have The MS 500 meters in London, 2012! 47-year-old bracket.  I’ll keep you posted!

Progress

I didn’t feel like taking my walk today because I had a headache. But I did anyway. I jogged a lot farther than I thought I could. I was shooting for the first mailbox, maybe the street light,   but I was able to go two houses! (just beyond the 2nd mailbox)  It wasn’t pretty but it was definitely jogging. The ensuing walk did get pretty hard the last few houses but I made it.

Goals

Last week after a discussion with my otolaryngologist about how diaphragm strength affects voice, I decided that I somehow need to try to strengthen my midsection. I know that I am generally weak head to toe, but doing a few sit-ups couldn’t hurt, right?

It was worse than I feared. I could not do a single sit-up! How sorry is that? Not one! It is no wonder I can barely talk! Ten years ago when I would do sit-ups, I would stop at 20 or 30 when the searing abdominal pain became too great. It’s not like that now. It doesn’t hurt at all, I just can’t. I continued to try twice a day and was able to work up to a whopping 4.

This week speech therapist lady suggested that rather than focus on a limited muscle group, that I go for a walk each day or something similar to slowly strengthen everything (besides other benefits.) So the sit ups are on hiatus for a few days as I give the walking a chance to shore up everything else.

Three days in and I don’t feel any different BUT I am enjoying my walks. I just cruise around my block each morning, which is not too taxing. The first day I felt so good that (in the spirit of the Olympics) I decided to “sprint” last fifty feet just for fun. Uh, didn’t happen. After two very labored jog-steps I reverted to just walking. Yesterday for some reason my legs were extra weak so I was happy just to make it back home upright. But I did have the thought that if I wanted to try jogging a little bit, I should try it at the start of my walk when my legs were fresher.

This morning I felt a lot better than yesterday so I gave it a try right at the start. I did six steps. It felt really strange. And I know that’s nothing to write home about, but I was very pleased. You know, if I tell myself I can’t run, and don’t ever try, I’m guaranteeing that I can’t. There are no MS rules that say you can’t run, it’s just that everything in your body is saying, “Don’t.” Well, not your heart. It is saying “Try.”

My new goal is to be able to jog around the block. I know, maybe it is impossible, and even if I were to pull it off, so? It is one block. It will probably take less than four minutes. Don’t I have more noble goals than that? Sure I do, but this one seems monumental to me at present. Another goal I have, that may seem like a small thing indeed is to sing a musical number at church. But good, at least as well as I sang the last time I sang over the pulpit in 2004. I know these are small things, and my body might not ever achieve them, but they are huge to me and that is what I am working towards.