Keeping to my routine, after dinner (and a little extra time for digestion), I donned my workout gear and headed to the basement for a solid sweat session.
One set of squats later, I’m doubled over, out of breath and my heart going insane in my chest. I took a short break, gathered my breath and regained normal heart function and went into the next exercise. I managed to struggle through a single a set of seven moves, taking breaks betweem each to regain my composure, but I had to l listen to my body. A long, cardio and muscle strengthening session was out of the question without causing myself undue pain. Enough was enough. So I stopped.
With my short cool down, I did a total of 15 minutes. That’s not a lot, but something is better than nothing. Tomorrow is another day and I will try again.
So while I may have “failed” my exercise goal today, I did what was best for my health, and I will be better for it. A minor setback will not define me.
Mantras are statements that you say to yourself to focus and empower yourself. Mantras can be simple “I am…” statements (I am important, I am valued, I am strong, etc), or can be multiple sentences — whatever you need, personally, to fill empowered.
I repeat this to myself several times while I’m meditating. I breath in deep and then say each short piece on the out breath. I also write these words down every morning into my journal when I first get to work.
And I mentally repeat it as I sit in the waiting room of the doctor’s office.
This is not a mantra that applies to my life as a whole. Right now, it’s something that I find strength and focus in while I’m struggling with this mystery illness. It’s what I need right now. When my body is well again, I will change my mantra to something more appropriate.
In fact, one of my mantras that I constantly find myself reverting back to in times of health and happiness is:
Think Lean. I am fit and productive.
I repeat this one to myself all the time, especially at work. It’s a constant reminder to stay on task and to avoid the snack stand. Cut the fluff, cut the fat. And for goodness’ sake, stay off Facebook.
I’m currently sitting in the waiting room at my doctor’s office. It’s a familiar site for me. This is my fifth visit here over the past month, in addition to a sojourn to the emergency room for heart palpitations.
There’s some off in my body.
Now I sit here, waiting to be called back for an ultrasound sound on my gallbladder, and I know how strange it may sound, but I sincerely hope they find something.
The pains, the fatigue, the shortness of breath, the foggy mind–I thought I had beaten this last year–The illness that threw me for a loop for three months. Three months where I, a decently active individual, had my life disrupted. I stopped working out, I stopped hiking, I stopped eating right (frozen meals take less energy to make).
When my symptoms finally disappeared, it was a still struggle to get back on the wellness horse, but I did it.
Now here, 15 months later, I’m smacked down with similar symptoms once again, but this time I have a renewed resilience. I’m attacking with vigor, trying to find the truth of what’s going on inside my body.
And if it is my gallbladder then finally I can put a face to my enemy, so to speak. I can fight to take my body back, and restore my best life. I can plan, I can treat, and I can cure myself.