A Rant (that still relates to Change…)

I’m still working on change. Are you?

One change I am trying to make is to post more reels on Instagram. Do you use Instagram? It’s like a mini vacation when I open the app and watch reels. I can lose half an hour, an hour—depends on the time of day and how much free time I have. I love it. There are all sorts of fun, short movies to watch: crochet techniques, exercise tips (and the best ones are mine, of course), folks dancing, teaching dance steps, babies doing all sorts of funny baby things like tasting lemons for the first time or doing laundry and cussing like little sailors. There are tips on how to use food scraps I might normally discard and instead use them to fertilize my house plants or maybe even wind up with some homemade garlic powder, onion powder or dried orange zest. There are ads, too, but I tend to scroll right past them.

Making a video to post on Instagram is fun. It is also time consuming, especially without a script, camera operator, and minimal digital editing skills. I have received lots of advice. “Make it funny!” “Keep it short!” “Just grab this little bar at the bottom with your finger and drag it over to where you want your video to start. Do the same on the back end.” Yeah right. It’s not that easy, at least not for me. I can be a goofball and talk wrong 🙄, I can talk too much 🤪(what a surprise!), I can accidentally stomp my foot in the middle of a sentence and then I have to start all over again😤. Then edit🧐. Then post it🤩. And the goal is to post something related to For Every Body, Inc., so not so many nature pictures (my fave!), and more fitness tips, etc.

And what do I get when I add a reel, a story or a post? I get likes. Maybe. And comments. Maybe. And views. Maybe. And what comes of any or all of that? Well, I am building a following. People follow our nonprofit and maybe they will join our community of folks interested in working on their fitness and nutrition.

After several weeks of making reels and posting them, I’m beginning to think that Instagram is a lot like money. There is value, but what kind of value? After all, these days money is just paper and metal with numbers attached. Sometimes, I never even see the money I make. It shows up on my banking app, then I “transfer” it to pay bills and buy things. It feels unreal. Yet somehow it is real.

On Instagram, I’m getting likes, I’m getting followers, yet there is nothing concrete. How can the number of followers on Instagram define me or my nonprofit? And yet here I am, writing about it, posting about it, thinking about what I will do for my next reel. Unreal? Yes. Also real. I love it and also I don’t love it. Still gonna make reels, edit them, post them and hope/wish/manifest those likes, comments and followers. Would you like to help me make my goal of building followers on Instagram? Click on that link I put in at the beginning, go to our Instagram page and like, comment, SHARE (that’s the weird little arrow) and follow so For Every Body, Inc. can grow into what my partners and I dream about—a truly tremendous resource for adults over 50 for wellness. 

Do you use Instagram? Tell me about your experience. I’ll be back soon with another post. Wait, is this blog just like Instagram? 😂 Who knows? If you do, clue me in. Thanks for letting me rant about IG while I work on changing my attitude.

With love and wishing you wellness,

Elizabeth

P.S. If you don’t have the app, here is a video I made last week with my BFF. We were lying on the living room floor trying to look lazy-ish…

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Elizabeth Reed (@foreverybodyover50)

Signs of Change

Well, it’s December, and as I both predicted and anticipated, there is change. A lot of change. Please let me catch you up on what’s been happening since September.

Shortly after my little camping adventure, I lost the key to the restaurant. I was at work teaching fitness in our local senior center. I had all of my keys dangling from various little rings on my big key ring and I closed my fingers around the one I needed. As I moved to open a closet, something caught somewhere and three keys flew off of one of the smaller rings. Two fell right at my feet. The third whizzed across the room and fell through a crack in the floor. That was the first sign. There was no way to retrieve that key. I had to confess to my boss that the key was gone. She offered to have another key made, but I chose instead to use the combination lock box to get in to work. I’ve never lost a key before and felt guilty; asking to use the lock box must have been that part of me deep inside that knew I was not going to need that key anymore.

Around the same time that I lost the key, I started receiving a lot of calls for private fitness training work. I had taken a break from private clients for both a change of pace and also to take the job at the restaurant. Because it’s hard for me to say no to folks who need help, I began to accept private clients again. The work is rewarding in every way—to see someone who was unable to get out of bed progress to being able to do that seemingly simple movement—or to see someone who had trouble with balance begin to walk once more with confidence, rather than fear—or to be able to work with someone who is serious about their fitness and health goals and moves forward with unrelenting drive and commitment—it brings me great joy. And income. It’s a win-win that I seemed to have forgotten, with all the excitement around being lead cook in a restaurant.

Then, in November, my dear life partner Bill had a biopsy resulting in a diagnosis of cancer. Treatable, probably, and also a wake-up call for remembering how much I treasure him and our time together. It only made sense to end my time at The Whale’s Jaw Cafe so that I could focus on the other passions in my life—Bill and senior fitness. Guess that’s why I didn’t ask for another key…

It’s hard to do everything. I was working so many hours that I barely had time to relax at home, to take care of myself (and Bill, and my mom) and experience the other aspects of life I had been missing while I was putting in so many hours in someone else’s kitchen. I’ll also have more time and energy to work on growing our nonprofit https://www.foreverybody.life which, by the way, is offering a free month of classes right now!

I guess what I’m trying to say is that there are signs. All the time. We just need to pay attention to them and decide what those signs mean. For me, the loss of the key was blatant. I pushed against that sign for a little while before the other signs began to wave like impatient battle flags, signaling me to make my move.

I know there is more change coming. I’m waiting and watching for what is coming next, all the while being in the moment, loving being present with Bill, my clients and classes. Winter solstice and the darkness of the season bring the opportunity for reflection, seeking light and the best of what is real in this life. I’m waiting and also not waiting; more focused on being. It feels good. Better than good. It feels right, and exactly where I want to be.

In other news, I made this beautiful cranberry pear pie with candied pecans to take to a holiday party tonight. I had time, my own amazing kitchen and the desire to create. I know you can’t have a piece, and I likely won’t get one either, but it sure came out pretty! If you’d like the recipe, leave a comment and I will share it with you.

Wishing you a happy, peaceful winter solstice, a glorious holiday season, and the desire to recognize and act on the signs of change in your own life.

Namaste,

Elizabeth

Change is in the Air

Happy Tuesday!

So far, I seem to be on track with my goals except for writing blog posts, so that is where I am going to give more energy and attention. Change is challenging. It’s hard to start/restart new habits and behaviors. Hard to let go of what gets in the way of change. Summer has flown by (have you noticed that the older you get, the faster time goes?), I’ve barely written a thing, and autumn has fallen upon us right on schedule.

Each of us is different, so it only makes sense that each of us must find what works best when we are trying to change our behaviors or make changes in our lives. I am the kind of person who functions best when I have schedules and routines. There is something comforting in knowing what I am going to do, and then doing it as planned. Letting myself down is not an option. I use the calendar on my phone for appointments and work schedules, so it makes sense to add writing posts to my calendar. That being said…I’ll be right back after I schedule some posts.

So. I spent a couple of nights glamping in Little Compton, RI. There’s something about sleeping outdoors that truly brings me closer to nature and the earth. I’m not afraid of bugs, squirrels, deer or a little water. (No bears in RI, thank goodness.) The weather forecast promised a hurricane, so I thought I was about to start a new adventure sport and went around telling my friends I was going “hurricane camping”. It turned out to be no more than a bit breezy the first evening, began to rain a bit during the night and through most of the second day, but it definitely was not a hurricane. I was a tiny bit disappointed and also a tiny bit relieved, as I would not have enjoyed the tent blowing away and jumping into my truck to sleep.

Sunday morning sunrise left me in awe of the world once again. I woke up very early, unusual for me, especially sleeping outdoors, where I have been known to sleep late into the morning. I wandered around the property where we stayed, taking in the morning stars remaining in the sky, then settled down by the fire pit to watch the day’s light come, feeling the warmth on my skin, still shivering a bit while I waited for my best friend to join me. Over the couple of days we were away, I had time for some introspection—to think about my future and the dreams I still carry about how I want to share myself and my talents/skills during the time I have left in this life. The clarity that comes to me when I am away from work and all other responsibilities and have time to relax and unwind outdoors is the best. It feels cleaner. Untarnished by distractions of daily life. There are opportunities coming my way and I am having a difficult time choosing what is best for me and for my family. After just a few days away, I know now to follow my heart, move forward and prepare for what’s next. It will be more change, and that is good.

Our host at the site told us there was a solar shower. Here I am, deciding I do not need a shower enough to hang this from a tree and pour cold water onto my already chilled body.

I feel strongly that the changes coming will happen in December. I’m not sure why, but I’m going to go with it and see how it all unfolds. As we move through this autumn, I will bring awareness and focus to the details of the opportunities coming, as I know that paying attention will help me make decisions.

Are you experiencing change or anticipating change? Are you preparing? If so, how? Please feel free to respond in the comments here.

Love + Namaste,

Elizabeth

A Special Event For You

Hi everybody, and happy Wednesday!

The plantar fasciitis is getting better, day by day. Thank you to all the folks who sent me healing energy, suggestions and good wishes. It’s wonderful to have kind readers who comment and respond—makes me feel like you are on the journey with me, which, I guess, you are.

Today, I’d like to take the time and use this blog space to share a special event with you. Our nonprofit, For Every Body, Inc., offers a series of wellness workshops (among other things—have you checked out our website?) that relate to different aspects of the Wellness Wheel.

Wellness Wheel? What’s that?

Here’s a great (and giant!) graphic of our version of the Wellness Wheel:

Nice, huh? We like to have fun with our graphics are are lucky ducks that the amazing Rosa has helped us create this fun one. As you can see, there are many aspects of wellness. Our goal is to address all of them. Last spring, we began to offer a wide variety of workshops addressing different areas of the wheel during spring and summer, then we took a break to focus on other business areas. We are back with more Wellness Workshops this summer.

Our next Wellness Workshop takes place on Zoom on Wednesday, June 21, at 4:00 pm Eastern time. You can attend for free. (And if you can’t make it, you will be able to watch a recording at a later date.) Read on, then click on the link at the end of this post to join us for this terrific event if you wish. Be sure to add it to you calendar.

Our guest presenter is Nathan Ives. It is my good fortune that Nathan is my neighbor, as he is one of those truly good people who gives his all to his family, his job and his community. Nathan is an Episcopal priest, as well as an environmental activist. He is currently working on a massive project to bring American Elms back to Cape Ann, particularly to Rockport and Gloucester. He’s the Johnny Appleseed of American Elms—and his mission is called Project Elm. We are blessed to have Nathan give us some of his precious time to talk about why he has chosen this Dutch Elm planting project and how it has meaning for Cape Ann. Here’s an article from the Gloucester Daily Times with more information about the project. One last link for you to check out: an interview Nathan did with Gloucester’s very own Heather Atwood in her series Cape Ann Today, from Studio 1623 in Gloucester.

Please join us for this presentation! Here’s the Zoom link:

https://us06web.zoom.us/j/86423577960?pwd=UWprMm9aaXA0dFBEREFYY0tQN1BzUT09

Passcode: 974425

A Little Setback

All of my dreams are still coming true, which is exciting! Our nonprofit For Every Body, Inc., is continuing to change and grow. My classes at the Rockport Senior Center are full of folks excited to move their bodies and make gains in strength, balance and endurance. The Whale’s Jaw Cafe grows busier by the day as summer approaches and I am cooking up a storm, using plant-based recipes for our dinner special every Friday night. I am motivated, constantly thinking about new ideas for our website, new music and choreography for classes, new recipes for the cafe. My mind bounces between all three with joy and passion. When all the stars are aligned and everything is going along so well, why do things have to change?

I am on my fourth round of plantar fasciitis in my left foot. Have you ever had plantar fasciitis? If not, you are fortunate. It’s painful. It’s hard to treat and heal, especially for someone who relies on their feet for work. The pain is the absolute worst first thing in the morning when the tissue has been resting during sleep. So, I hobble out of bed and begin to rotate my foot from the ankle, trying to dynamically stretch it until it’s flexible enough to walk.

Am I going to allow this setback to take away my joy? Will I slip back to that place of being stuck? Absolutely not! My goals to move forward are still intact. I add more self-care to my evenings, icing, massaging and stretching my foot. I am taking a break from running, and this weekend cycled around the whole of Cape Ann with my best friend. I teach my classes and go easy on that poor, sore left foot. I have done this before and I can do it again. More energy will go into planning. And to family time. And writing and playing music. Creating new recipes. Working with my new intern! (That’s a topic for another post so keep an eye out for it.)

I am going to keep going. I am not stuck, just hurt. I will heal, one day at a time, until I am ready to return to beautiful long runs in the forest and return to days without pain.

Here’s a pic from my bike ride. This one was taken at the Annisquam Bridge, a fun little addition on a perfect day to cycle!

Recipe Interlude

I’m getting this to you right away, as my restaurant shifts start tomorrow and I will have time for nothing but cooking up a storm and teaching fitness classes for a few days. Enjoy making and eating this delicious soup recipe.

Beans and Greens Soup

1/4 c good quality cooking olive oil

3-5 cloves garlic, minced course

2 bay leaves

1 red onion, diced

2 large carrots, diced

1/2 lb Baby Bella mushrooms, washed and chopped or sliced

Generous pinch red pepper flakes

1/2 c nutritional yeast flakes

5-6 c vegetable broth (I use plant-based low sodium bouillon cubes if I don’t have stock ready)

*2 sm or 1 lg can cannellini beans, rinsed and drained (about 4 cups) OR 3/4 # bag dried cannellini beans soaked overnight, drained and cooked tender with a 2” piece of Kombu seaweed

**1 large bunch Swiss chard, washed and chopped coarse, including stems after trimming, or other greens of your choice

Black pepper

Heat oil in stock pot or Dutch oven over medium heat. Add diced red onion and cook until onion starts soften. Add diced carrots and mushrooms. Cook 5 minutes more, stirring frequently. Stir in minced garlic.

Add bay leaf, vegetable broth and pepper flakes and bring to a boil. Reduce heat to medium-low and simmer vigorously for 5 minutes.

Stir in nutritional yeast. Add cannellini beans and Swiss chard. Cover and simmer until chard is tender, about 5-7 minutes.

Add a generous amount of freshly ground pepper and serve.

This is amazing with raw garlic toast: Toast a nice, big crusty slice of bread. Rub the toasted bread with a clove of raw garlic, then drizzle lightly with olive oil.

*I suppose any kind of beans could be used, but for some reason, cannellini beans seem particularly well suited.

**Can substitute kale, escarole, collard greens or spinach. Because each type of greens has a different cook time. Make sure carrots are almost tender before adding spinach. Collards take much longer, so add those right after the garlic. Fresh collards are really best for this recipe. Whatever you choose, you will become as addicted as we are.

Food, Glorious Food

Back again, almost within my goal of posting weekly! I left you hanging a bit last time, as it was dinner time and that wins over everything else when I’m hungry…

The other thing that has helped me get unstuck is cooking. As you may have noticed if you have perused this blog, I love to cook. I’ve been focused on plant-based eating for more than 13 years now. Having studied this area of nutrition extensively, I have taught vegan cooking classes and written an as yet unpublished cookbook (although you will find many of my finest recipes right here in my past blog posts). Here’s what happened:

Our little town has lots of restaurants, most with minimal options for folks like me who want to eat out and have delicious menu choices that are plant-based. Honestly, when I see a veggie burger on the menu at a restaurant, I’m certain it’s from the freezer, purchased weeks ago and sitting waiting for the likes of me to stroll in and order one, as it’s the only choice. Sometimes those veggie burgers have eggs in them, and while I’m not morally opposed to eating eggs if they come from birds that have good lives, I’m allergic to eggs. So none of those veggie burgers, please! Also, why not create something fantastic AND plant-based for the menu? I might know what you are thinking. Seaside fishing village. It’s what all of the tourists want. Fish and chips. Baked haddock. Mashed potatoes with butter. Fried shrimp. Scallops. And of course, burgers. Cheeseburgers. More fries. Who cares about the vegetables? (Way too much to say about this topic, but I’ll move on.)

One day, I decided to try a new little place called the Whale’s Jaw Cafe. It’s a cool place that has live music every day during lunch, as well as live music on Friday nights. I strolled in and discovered there were several delicious, house-made items on the menu that met my criteria. The owner was open to working to add more of the same to their menu and I made a few suggestions.

I also booked myself to play a two hour set on a Friday night. I wrote a ton of songs—well, not exactly a ton—but about 15 or so during the pandemic and was excited to invite my family and friends to come hear my set. I gave some of my own recipes to the owner and she prepared a fabulous vegan feast for everyone who came. And…it was the first time the cafe sold out on a Friday night. Exciting, right?

Soon after that magical evening, the owners asked if I’d like to work Friday nights helping out with whatever they needed me to do. I spent some time in the front, taking orders and serving beverages. I spent some time in the kitchen, helping out in any way needed. I emptied the dishwasher, cleared tables and danced like crazy when it slowed down and there was a good band. I was happy! Then the best opportunity popped up.

Kristin, one of the owners, asked if I would like to work on a new menu and be the lead chef. I jumped up and down with excitement, right in front of her. This is my other dream—to prepare delicious, nutritious food for our community. Of course I said yes. There is no way I can open a restaurant, be there all day long and some evenings too, and still teach my fitness classes, take care of my life partner and my rapidly aging mother. This was the perfect in-between—to have the opportunity to create a new menu with lots and lots of plant-based options, to cook in there several days each week, to bring another dream to reality.

I hustle in there, zooming from the kitchen to the back’s stocked refrigerators, carrying armloads of vegetables and ingredients to open the hearts (and arteries) of our customers. Chopping, chopping, roasting, grinding, kneading, I make soup, hummus, vegetables, Joyful Bowls, and scones. I prepare every sauce we use from scratch using my own recipes. I get to listen to talented local musicians, and sometimes I take a tiny break and hop on the mic myself for a couple of tunes.

It’s a big change for some of our customers, although we still have some meat and dairy choices. And there are lots of folks coming in and raving about the new items on the menu. We are working to use as much local product as we can find. Kristin is contacting local farmers, procuring the freshest of greens and microgreens, amazing whole wheat flour, milled right on Cape Ann, local jams and honey, bread made right here in our town. It’s a process. It’s a process that has my mind scheming and humming all the time. I can’t wait to see what we find next and decide how to incorporate more local produce and products into our menu. That menu will change with the seasons, and I will have the chance to continue to create new recipes to serve up with a big smile.

Talk about passion!

Tonight’s dinner. Beans and greens with mushrooms.

I’ll share the recipe next time.

The Importance of Passion

Happy Sunday!

I said in my last post that I’d address some of the catalysts for change and today I want to talk about passion. Maybe you are already passionate about something in your life. If you aren’t, this is something to think about if you want to get unstuck. For me, feeling passionate makes my heart sing. It gives me energy. It makes me want to take action.

I am passionate about running, fitness and cooking. I am still running, teaching fitness as a senior fitness specialist, balance specialist and senior fitness consultant. There’s nothing missing in my life, yet the day-to-day of it has left me missing the third area of passion for me, and that is cooking. I cook at home all the time, developing new recipes at an almost frantic pace, seldom taking the time to write down the recipes I create. Mostly it’s because there is not enough time in the day to squeeze everything in. And, of course, something magical happened during the pandemic that fed my passion for sharing fitness and wellness with others. I let go of worrying about writing my recipes and jumped into something new with two feet.

My friend Steve presented me with a fantastic idea about my Zoom fitness classes. He brought forth the idea of starting an online wellness community for older adults that addresses all eight aspects of the Wellness Wheel. (I’ll share more details about the Wellness Wheel later.) As we talked, my heart leaped at the idea of this project. So may folks had joined my class during the pandemic and we had great feedback about how it helped them all survive the isolation of the pandemic, as well as improved their all-around fitness: cardio, strength, endurance, flexibility, and balance, too. How exciting to use my Zoom classes as a springboard for this nonprofit called For Every Body, Inc.! You can check out our website if you like: http://www.foreverybody.life

Steve is a lawyer, a researcher, someone who helps companies grow by using surveys to determine the deepest needs of clients. He is passionate about fitness and wellness just like me. He’s a perfect match for this endeavor, as well as a gentle, loving person with a good sense of humor. He is compassionate and honest, committed to his wife and family. And so about two years ago, we began our journey together to bring wellness to “geri-optimists” in an online format.

We are still working to bring this idea to fruition, although it will be ever-changing. We have a website, we have a starting community, a new partner to help us, a list of potential interns to work with and much more. I am definitely passionate about this, although I would like to move at lightning speed, and that is just not the way these things work. I continue to curate excellent playlists for our classes, (we use licensed music, rare for fitness classes!) as well as creative, easy to follow choreography for our live-on-Zoom classes. Each class is recorded and many are now available to take on our local cable TV station here on Cape Ann.

For Every Body, Inc., rekindled my passion for fitness in a new way and was the beginning of becoming unstuck. There’s more, of course, but I need to save that for next time. Supper is ready, we are hungry, so I’ll be back soon to share more.

Love and Namaste,

Elizabeth

Figuring out the picture piece still. Here’s a sweet shot from this morning’s time in the woods. Signs of spring!

Unstuck

Hey there. How’s it going? It’s been quite a while.

Have you ever been stuck? Well I sure have and just now am feeling particularly unstuck. So much of my life has changed in the past ten years that I can barely keep up with it myself, let alone take time to share it with you. Today I have decided it’s time to come back here. I’m ready. I can squeeze it in. It doesn’t have to be perfect. It can be what it is, just like life.

I had been feeling stuck mostly because my days were the same for so long. They oozed into each other like oil puddles in the rain. I’ve been teaching fitness classes, running, writing a cookbook, then my life partner had a massive health crisis and with all that has entailed, care giving for my partner and my mom—I could go on, but I trust that you get the picture. The pandemic certainly mixed things up, although I did enjoy the isolation, being at home (I wrote 17 songs!) and some superb time with the my tiny bubble of six, including us. We definitely all grew closer in a good way.

The pandemic also changed my fitness classes. I had to learn how to use Zoom and prepare all new release forms so that I could continue to service the fitness community I had created through our local Council On Aging. As that evolved, my list of participants grew extensively. Husbands, cousins, sisters, friends, parents all joined and came to classes even beyond the U.S. Shortly after that, my dear friend Steve presented me with the idea to co-found a nonprofit online wellness community called For Every Body, Inc. Steve and I share the almost insane goal of leaving a legacy of wellness through this online community. It is inclusive, focused on older adults, addressing all eight aspects of the Wellness Wheel. We are ambitious dreamers!

Well. There’s a good start. I have so much more to share and envision several short posts each week, sharing more details of how I became unstuck and the catalysts that were successful for me, as well as share some details of the journey along the way. I will give you a broad hint: All of my dreams are coming true.

Love + Namaste,

Elizabeth

P.S.

I’ve been into making photo cards lately, and have some great shots to share—as soon as I have time to figure out how WordPress works again..or get my wizard offspring to help me. xo

Summer 2015

It’s been a while since I have written a post. There are days when it seems like there is too much to write  after so much time has passed and summoning the energy seems impossible. Today, though, it’s time to dig in and just do it.

On July first, I am joyfully teaching my group fitness class—Forever Fit, for anyone 50 years and older. I am prompting, singing, counting, jumping, squatting, grooving to the music, thinking of nothing other than being right where I am and doing my job. The room is filled with about 25 women and one man, all following my lead as we work through Cut Chemist’s “What’s The Altitude“. The song fills me with joy and energy. We all do what I refer to as “step-out step”, a modified jack step. I alter the step to include a raised knee every other beat, switch sides, switch to kicks on alternating sides, and move the step forward for four beats, then back. It’s one of my favorites. We all look like dancers in a Michael Jackson video. It’s a beautiful thing to look up and see a room full of people smiling and moving like that. Suddenly, I both feel and hear a loud pop in my left calf. I think I’m fine, yet find myself unable to touch even my left toe to the floor. I think I am going to finish teaching the class, yet when I look up, with the music still blasting, my class has stopped moving. “Are you okay?” and of course I answer yes. But I am not.

In what feels like seconds, one woman from my class has raided the freezer in the kitchen of the building and comes back with a bag of ice. The Counsel On Aging director has flown down the stairs from her office and is talking about calling an ambulance. Someone else is grabbing a chair for me to sit down and in all the panic, somehow everything feels like it is happening in slow motion. No. I do not want an ambulance. No, I do not want the chair. Hot tears prick behind my eyes. The tears are not from pain, although there is plenty of that. Fighting to hold those tears back, I recognize fear asserting itself and racing to the front of my emotional repertoire. Immediately, I am wondering if I will ever run again. I know in these moments I should be afraid of not being able to work, of a long, painful recovery, of the potential for a bad tear in a muscle that will require surgery. Yet all I can think about is never being able to run again.

As I finally settle into the chair and place the ice on my calf, I start to make decisions. I need to go home first. I obviously won’t be able to drive, so as people ask what I need, I send someone to go pick up my partner Bill so he can drive me home in my own car. I want to change out of my sweaty clothes and wash my face.  I need to get to my car. Before I can think of anything else, Bill is standing over me, asking what I need. “Please. Just take me home.” Two women from class confer for a moment, and then they stand, one on either side of me. They cross their arms, hold each others’ hands in some Girl Scout carry configuration and slide their linked arms beneath me. I am lifted and carried out to my car by a woman in her seventies and a woman in her sixties. I am in awe of their strength and kindness. Even in such pain and fear, I pat myself on the back for doing a great job with this class. I can’t stop thanking them.

In clean clothes and with the sweat washed off (mostly), I reline on a gurney in the emergency room, I am given Valium and a manual examination. The handsome ER doc decides that I need to see an orthopedic specialist. I leave the hospital with a prescription for enough Valium to keep me for a month(!!!) as well as a comfy, handmade soft cast to wear until I see the specialist, and, of course, crutches. I whimper on the way home, clutching my prescription and wondering how bad this injury really is. And, of course, when I can run again.

The next day, I get an immediate appointment with a doctor at Sports Medicine North. After careful examination of my leg, he says I have a slightly torn gastrocnemius and a badly strained soleus, the two main calf muscles. It can take three to six months for this injury to heal. I feel sick. Bill takes me back to the drug store with prescriptions for two different pain killers.

I go home on the crutches, wearing a walking boot that comes up to my knee. I wear the boot for the whole month of July. Bill takes me to Pebble Beach, carries me over boulders to my beach chair, wipes my tears, suffers along as I attempt two and thee mile walks with the crutches. I find I am strong enough to pull myself up the stairs backwards two at a time using my triceps and my good leg. I manage to shower while balancing on one foot. It takes a little over a week before I am able to touch my left toe to the ground and not cry out. I don’t want to talk to or see anyone.

The Boot

Pebble Beach

I cannot tolerate sitting or resting unless it’s bedtime. I am a mover. During the months of healing and rest, I color beautiful cards to mail to my youngest child in Arizona. I write poetry. I read books—some fiction, some fitness books, some cookbooks. I lose weight on the painkillers, (plus they made me cry all the time), so I ditch them during the first week. I eliminate all sugar to reduce inflammation. I eat lots of greens and naturally anti inflammatory foods. I do everything I can to heal quickly. I also sit on our deck or sun porch and watch with envy as runners pass my house all day long. I hear their footsteps through the open windows of summer as I lay in bed, trying to bring my focus back to what I have instead of what I am missing.

The follow-up appointment on July 30 brings good news. I can ditch the boot and start physical therapy. I have already been working on range of motion, stretching, massage and strength. Despite being told to wait, I have been listening to my body and it feels right to gently start the active part of recovery. I rotate my ankle, practice inversion and eversion. I flex and extend my ankle. I gently massage the painful areas in my calf. I go easy, but I keep it up for a bit every single day. I wear the boot unless I am in bed.

My physical therapist is incredibly good at her job. Each visit shows improvement. Because the boot changed my gait, I am also struggling with hip and back pain on the right side. For a couple of months, I am in pt four times each week. Some weeks I see four different therapists. Each one is kind, honest, good at her job and adamant that I take it slow. I use the foam roller. I stretch. I strengthen. I ice. Some nights after an hour or more of exercises and pt homework, I find myself on the couch with four ice packs strategically placed to reduce pain and inflammation. I am so cold that even in August, I huddle beneath a down comforter.

Friends come and take me for walks. My friend Krissie walks so fast I can barely keep up. I keep going, though, pushing through the discomfort. Soon I start easy running—walk a few yards, jog a few. My friend Amy patiently jog-walks with me. I am grateful. My friend Charlene brings us a delicious vegan dinner.  My class sends lots of sweet emails, telling me they miss me, hoping I am healing well so I can come back to work soon. I even get a couple of cards in the mail. It is nice to be missed and to be loved. I am grateful.

On August 31, one day ahead of my self-imposed deadline, I run three miles. The next day, I run five. I am not allowed to run uphill, so I walk the hills, giving my attention to the beautiful ocean views in my neighborhood.  I note the fishing boats in the harbor, the soft sand on the Front Beach, the rolling waves lapping against the shore of Back Beach. The slow hills are okay, so I run those. By mid-September, I run up all the hills. Once again, I am grateful.

The End of the First Run

I return to work September 9. My class is thrilled to have me back. I tell them I am going to go easy for the first couple of weeks and I do, mostly. By the third week back, I am hopping, jumping and singing as I lead them through our workout. We stretch at the end, and I go home and stretch again. I still ice at night and have a fresh awareness of my left calf that I will probably hold onto for longer than need be. I am back. I am strong. And I can still run.

What did I learn? Too much to put it all down here. A couple of biggies, though. I am a runner and much more than that. I can heal my body.  I can wait when I have to wait. And I can be still.  For a while. As long as I have crayons, books and lots of love.

Bill and I at Pebble Beach

My Handsome Hero, Bill