Walking away a winner....

When I started seeing my cardiologist, she told me she wanted me to start walking.  Interval walking -- you know, walk for a time, walk faster for a few minutes, slow down, speed up, etc.  Either/or start walking up the stairs more.  Something to get my heart rate up.  So, I started walking up the stairs at home once or twice a day, in addition to walking down the stairs at work at least twice, and up them at least once, per day.  I'd have a good routine going, then I had surgery and stopped.  Started again, overdid it, stopped.  Started again, caught a cold, stopped.  Well, today I got on the treadmill.  Why the treadmill and not outside now that the weather has warmed up?  A few reasons: 
  • It's raining, so that right there would do it. 
  • The treadmill keeps me at a steady pace.  Also, I can track it, and hopefully see an improvement in time, distance, and speed as time goes on. 
  • The treadmill has something I can hold on to in case I lose my balance, which has been known to happen.  ;) 
  • I honestly wasn't quite sure how a sports bra would work without wearing the breast form.  Didn't really want to try that out in public.
I figured I would start off slow, and seeing as how tired I always am, thought I'd only last about five minutes.  I've used the Couch25K app before, and thought it would be perfect for what my cardiologist wants me to do.  So I used that.  I ended up actually walking a bit faster than I thought I would, and I actually jogged on the jogging parts (I had planned on walking faster, not jogging; I am soooo not a jogger.).  I didn't go the whole thirty minutes that it lasts, but I did last longer than I thought I would.  The first and last five minutes were a slower walk (warm-up and cool down), and the ten minutes in between alternated between 1 1/2 minute walks and 1 minute jogs. 

What surprises me is that my shoulders are sore.  I'm sure my legs will be sore tomorrow.

Here's proof:   :)


Lines from a Kathy Mattea song come to mind:
¯¯¯¯
"You nearly took everything I have
I never knew I could hurt so bad
But at least I left with every piece of this heart of mine.
I'm walking' away a winner, walkin' away from a losin' game
With my pride intact and my vision back I can say
I know where I'm going and I know I'll be alright
I'm walkin' away a winner, walkin' back into my life."    
¯¯¯¯

The whole song doesn't fit the situation, but here's a link if you want to hear the tune:
Walking Away a Winner, Kathy Mattea


Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

It's Not All Pretty Pink Ribbons

Here is the link to my caringbridge page on this subject:   It's Not All Pretty Pink Ribbons Click there and read that first, then come back here.  I have a few things to elaborate on. Let me start by saying, I love pink.  Someone gives me something pink, and to me it's a caring gesture; it shows that person cares about me.  I wear the necklaces and bracelets.  I use the coffee mugs and water bottles, and the badge holder.  I write in the journal with the pink pen.  My husband wears a pink shirt when he takes me to my medical appointments.  I use the shawl and the blankets.  The candle sits on my nightstand for when I'm feeling a little nauseous.  Whenever I use one of these items, I think of the person who gave them to me with warmth.  When I see someone out in public wearing a pink ribbon, there's an instant sense of comradery.  Most of the times, we stop and chat, tell our stories to each other. Breast cancer is portr...
Read more

Who is Your Hero?

Image
Who is your hero, and why?  What can you do to be more like the people you look up to? I have lots of heroes.  You can read about them all here:  It Takes A Village .  For this specific post, I'd like to talk about my biggest hero, my husband. My husband who married me before he knew that I would become terminally ill.  My husband who has stood by my side every step of the way since this nightmare started.  Literally -- it started the day the biopsy was ordered, the wonderful people at the front desk called him at work and said, "We're doing this now, come if you can." so he did.  He couldn't be in the room with me, but I knew he was right on the other side of that door.  I could feel his presence.  I leaned on him all the way home, where he tucked me into bed and made sure I was comfortable. The following week he drove me through the snow, and held my hand in the doctor's office while the PA gave us the bad news.  He didn't let go...
Read more

Thanksgiving 🦃

Image
This is the sixth Thanksgiving since my metastatic breast cancer diagnosis.  The median life span of a metastatic breast cancer patient is approximately three years.  I am ever so grateful to be here still, and I am well aware of how incredibly lucky I am to have made it this long. Since my diagnosis, not only have I gone through chemo, surgery, and IV treatment every three weeks, I have visited the local emergency room as a patient quite a few times.  I have endured pain, nausea, and a myriad of other side effects.  Our family was forced to move out of our home of twenty-four years to a much smaller house because we needed a smaller mortgage.  Money is still so tight that I visit food pantries and hot meal distributions on a regular basis to help make ends meet.  I have a wonderful friend who brings us dinner the day after treatment day, and regularly brings a bag or two of groceries along with it.   Along with the hardships, some wonderful thing...
Read more