Hell Yeah, I Feel a Difference!
Yesterday I made plans to go to a restorative yoga class today because the gentle stretching and the easy yoga poses are perfect to keep me flexible with all the running I’m doing right now.
But this morning… I wake up with no desire to go, but since I meeting my friend Bev there, I make myself go. I arrive a few minutes early, so I update my Facebook status with: Gentle yoga, it does a body good. (I think that’s called trying positive reenforcement on myself)
I’m okay through the first 15 minutes of the class, though I find myself feeling out of sorts and having a hard time relaxing. I wish I was home on my couch.
Deep breaths. In and out. Relax.
I tell myself yoga is exactly what I need. Yoga will refresh me and help me feel better. Come on Janet, you know they say yoga is perfect for times like this. (Who are ‘they’ and what do they know anyhow?)
After doing stretches on one side of our body, the instructor (a wonderful, amazing instructor!) says something about pausing and being aware of how our body feels. She asks if we notice any difference between our legs and hips on one side versus the other, since one side was stretched and one wasn’t yet.
Under my breath, I respond with, “Different? You’re damn right, my legs feel different! Stretches or no stretches, they always feel different. They’ve felt different for 8+ years now. Different? I know all about different!”
Geez Janet, chill! The rational side of my brain (known as tough-no-emotions Janet in Because I Can) tries to calm me down. It’s not that bad. Sure your leg is funky, but you can do most of this yoga without modifying. And think of all the running you can do.
Yes, Yes, I know.
But enough already. I’m tired of doing what I can, because I can. (who came up with that stupid saying anyhow?) I just want to be me. Normal, equal me. And the only difference I want to feel in my legs is when one is stretched in yoga and one isn’t.
But no, I feel all kinds of different all the time. My left leg and hip feel different and it’s not a good different. The ankle is stiff. The knee can’t be bent too far without discomfort. That hip is tighter than the other one. Though my pain continues to decrease, half of the nerves in my left thigh still tingle and even burn at times.
Deep breaths. In and out.
It’s going to be okay.
I muddle my way through the rest of yoga, modifying where I need to. We do a sitting pose where our legs are supposed to twist like some crazy-ass pretzel.
I can’t even begin to do it with my left leg, so I do an extended child’s pose, burying my face in my mat to hide the tears that threaten to flow.
I know being tense when trying to stretch is counterproductive, so I try to let go of my tension. I’m not upset at my body, it’s doing the best it can, but I’m annoyed that this is my life. I’m frustrated that I won’t ever have two good, normal, similar legs.
I’m sad that I don’t get a do-over. That I won’t ever get over all my injuries. That my body will never be the way it was before May 20, 2004. (damn, I hate that date!)
I know it will be okay. I know that I will snap out of this. I know that I have a lot to be thankful for. I know that tomorrow will look better. I know that I will run a 10k in the morning. I know that I’ll be all about doing what I can, because I can tomorrow.
But today I’m not feeling that way, not at all…