Pains and Gains/ The Daily Post


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Do you agree with Jane Fonda’s favorite exercise motto, “no pain, no gain?” Is it impossible to attain greatness without considerable hardship?

 

There are a few points to this question. Different ways to look at life, where you are at in it, and your health and contentment.

When I was in my twenties and beginning to raise my family I wanted to be like other moms. If there was talk about joining a friend or group to exercise, I was all for it and joined in.

We laughed at the end of the session as we limped or rubbed a sore body part. We knew we were tough and could endure the pain, stating to each other how out of shape we all were in.

We were more in tune with clothing. We squeezed our butts into tight-fitting jeans. Showing a little cleavage wasn’t a bad thing either; after all, everything stayed in place and perky.

Make-up on, hair always done, nails freshly polished; yes, pain for gain was absolutely worth it.

Last night I was sitting at the table with my friends at the Moose. We all ate supper together and then from the time we disposed of our plates we began our chatter. We thought nothing of our conversations. We spent more time laughing until our guts hurt and tears were rolling down our faces.

An hour or so of this passed, minutes ticking by, when we all began to notice how much sooner it is getting dark outside. One of my friends made a show-stopping comment and we all quit laughing.

Her words were, ” do you realize that all we have talked about is the amount of pain we are in”?

Those words hit me hard. We all looked at each other. I looked around at the people sitting near me. I fit in too well. I fit in the category of older people. I could tell by the conversations that we were all in the same boat with similar issues.

Some were speaking about how little time they had to themselves as they were caring for a parent. Others were speaking about how tired they were after still having to work too many hours in a week. Some faces reminded me of a person showing up to the dinner out of routine; but if they really thought about it, they would rather be home in their favorite chair, watching TV and nodding off and on.

My friends and I were doing the same thing, but we were still laughing about the pain we are going through, just like I did when I was in my twenties. The laughing stopped after my friend’s words. She continued on with, ” I want to talk about the weather, beautiful roses, the stars at night.”

Yes, that sounded so peaceful and enjoyable, but the truth is; it is hard to speak of those visions when pain interrupts our daily pain. The thought of real exercise brings a wrinkle to my face. A nice walk wouldn’t be bad, but I don’t want that terrible pain for gain feeling any longer.

I have issues with my Parkinson’s that I don’t like. There is no particular thing I do or not to bring it on. My muscles twitch. Sometimes it feels like little ants are crawling on my arms. I will look but see nothing, brushing off the invisible creatures.

When I walk I feel unsteady. The fear of falling drops the vision of  the wonderful time I have of taking a nice, long walk. My legs tremble when I move them. It just makes me feel weak all over.

Instead of thinking of enduring an exercise class, I am more in tune with what medications I can take to ease the pain. I ponder on giving into the tired feelings I have and take a nap. I don’t go out of my way anymore to do a lot of house cleaning all in one day like I used to. I do a little each day and sometimes if my pain is enough I will skip a day of cleaning.

I can look back now, as well as all of us sitting at that table and become a little sad at what we can’t do today that we did only ten years ago. The positive note in this though was sitting together and for a good amount of time, we laughed at each other for the pains we were enduring.

The best exercise for people at my age or with terminal illness is laughter. If we don’t laugh, we don’t live. My advice today is no more pain for gain. We should do what feels comfortable. Take a shorter walk, dance a slower dance, stay involved with family and friends; and lastly, enjoy each day like there is no more tomorrow.05-37 - Quirky

Well I Did It!


English: Maria Moline, instructor, coaches her...

English: Maria Moline, instructor, coaches her Zumba class through the dance choreography in the Patch Fitness Center in U.S. Army Garrison Stuttgart. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I was slipping so quickly into a mild depression after placing Al in the nursing home. I didn’t realize that I would go through this. I knew that I would miss him, but to get to the point I could see nothing but God and hit and miss things surprised me.

Then I quit eating as much as I did, plus I took up sleeping as a part-time job. When I went to the doctor and was told I had to go on insulin, I knew I was in trouble. I asked for thirty days to heal myself or at least to see a positive change. With the encouragement of so many friends on here, and the fear of needles, I signed up for classes to help myself.

So the classes involve Monday, water aerobics. This is a class of seniors, doing water exercises. I didn’t really think I would feel too much from the class, but believe me I did.

Tuesday’s class I went to was a yoga class. This helped my mind, plus stretched the muscles. I felt like a ballerina as I did things with my body that dancers do. It was delicate and romantic, if you looked at it in the right prospective. I truly enjoyed that class. In fact I go back tomorrow for the other session for this class.

Today I went to Zumba for seniors. It was for seniors when I looked around at the other participants, but it felt like I was getting a youthful work-out. I broke out in the sweat. I moved to Salsa and Zumba. I bent, I jumped, I swayed and I wiggled my hips. I got a good work-out. They may extend this class to two days but right now it is only on Wednesdays. The bad thing about this class was that I kept fighting off the munchies all afternoon. I did eat but I ate healthy. I did cheat on some whole wheat crackers. I think I ate about six of them.

So I did it. Since I noticed that my whole being  was changing, I have now lost  seven pounds. My sugars dropped a lot. They had been running in the high two hundreds, which was rare for me. Last night before I went to bed I checked because when my sugars are where they are supposed to be, I struggle through the night with them dropping down in the sixties. I feel very sick when this happened. One or two times I have had to crawl to the kitchen to get something to eat because I was shaking and sweating so bad, I could not walk.

So I check my levels now, so I know whether to get food to place on my night stand. So my sugars were 106. They had dropped from 280 down to 106 with just three classes so far. I am going to say this without bragging. I am so proud of my effort.

I don’t understand why my feet are so cold. I don’t mean cold like cold, I mean like ice, burning ice. Right now I have a sock type slipper on my feet plus my Ugg look-a-like slippers on and they are on the verge of being cold. I already blogged about how I had to deal with them last night like the burning cold they got.

Anyways, tomorrow is the last day, unless Friday I want to pick up another water class. That class is Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. I picked Monday only because of the other classes, but I do have Fridays open. Should I go or let my body rest and sleep in.

I also need your prayers. I have been praying for two months for a job. Now that Al is not here, I really need to go to work, at least part-time. All I know how to do is be a caregiver, and a  writer. I placed a babysitting ad on a Facebook page but after a week, I still have received nothing. To very honest, I don’t know what God wants from me. I listen but hear nothing. I placed three ads for care giving and nothing. That is not the way it used to be. I had more job offers and not enough time. So please pray that I hear what God is saying. If there is a brand new door opening, pray that I see it.

When I was asked to read at the book club on the 24th of this month, reading  one of my stories, I quickly pondered on whether this may be a brand new door, but I know in reality, it is rare to have writers earn money, at least enough to call it an income. I am not stressing out totally, but need to be doing something to earn money.

I have to be careful though what I do and this does worry me. I have bad neuropathy in my feet. I can’t stand on them very long without feeling like I have no feet. So this would keep some jobs from me. I have arthritis in my lower two discs in my back so this would eliminate long-standing for me. So thus the prayers being asked from you. Thank-you in advance for praying for me.