Footloose

The blue toenails felt a little wild at first.  

That was before I noticed how nice they looked with these pretty sandals.  Actually they were last year's sandals but so far, I've worn them more this year.  The truth is I'm just happy that I can see my toes.  

I am happy for a lot of things.  Materfamilias commented on the offhand way that I mentioned a walk.  The truth is that I am grateful to be walking; I am grateful that walking grows easier each week.  This past week was filled with walking firsts: it was the first week that walking actually made my muscles feel better, the first week I was able to increase my walk from 1/2 mile to a mile, the first week I could walk uphill without pain, the first time I could actually look up and admire the view while walking down the hill without risking an inadvertent misstep and back pain.   In short it was a good week.  I was able to walk a mile at least once 5 out of the past 7 days.

Yesterday I took my walk at the downtown farmer's market.  Uneven pavement — no problem.  Curbs — no problem.  Stopping and starting and dodging other walkers — no problem. I didn't buy a lot but I had a wonderful time looking around.  It was so nice being able to go out and on my own to explore again.  

Near the end of my walk, on the way back to my car, I stopped at Cruze Dairy Farm Stand and bought a small prepacked icecream single:  buttermilk lime cardamom.  The flavor caught my fancy.   And it was good, very good.  Even the act of eating ice cream while walking, something that a few months ago would not have even caused me a moment's thought, seemed like a special treat. After all, it was only a month ago that standing at all was a challenge, a calculation, a risk:  could I stand long enough for a shower? Could I go to the bathroom?  If I did, how long would I need to rest before I could get up long enough to brush my teeth?  Could I stand up long enough to get something to eat, or to drink, or even to turn out the lights? 

Today I didn't take my walk.  I realized I needed rest, that I have been doing too much.  It s not the walking. I am not lifting, working hard, pushing too hard, except that I am.  I want to do everything and miss nothing, and although my days are filled with simple tasks, common errands, I am finally realizing that all these simple activities require using muscles I didn't use for a while.  In fact they all require relearning muscle movements that I've probably not used for for years.  It shocked me to discover that movements my therapist tried to teach me, are easier now, that I can stand straight now, with some effort, and I've not really been able to stand straight, withoug leaning forward, for years.  A world of possibility is opening up, if only I can give myself time and patience to learn to move properly.

Today has been a day of rest, of recovery, and yes a little bit of blog writing.  In fact I've written, and lost, this post three times.  I blame it on physical and mental exhaustion.  I spent the afternoon watching movies and knitting. I spent the afternoon in necessary rest.  There is more than enough time in the world for rest, for revitalization.  There is no benefit in pushing to do more and more; the benefit is in giving oneself time. For the first time in a days I don't feel numb with exhaustion.  Out of rest will come even greater progress.