Easter Sunday in the middle of the COVID crisis. There will be no public religious services. It’s just another day like every other day for the last month. My God, has it been a month already? March 14 was my last day at Bikram. Wow! How long will this continue? And who will we be when we come out of this? What will the world be like? It’s both worrisome and exciting, at least for me. I’m lucky; I can deal with uncertainty.
As I left for my morning walk with Elsa, Yvette was doing yoga again in the driveway. She only had one student this morning. I hope to see ten students out there doing yoga by the end of this shutdown. The mats were the appropriate distance from each other. I wish I could participate, but when I look at the postures, my body says, “I don’t think so.” In the Bikram sequences, I have made adaptations that allow me to get benefits without struggling to keep up.
My leg was bothering me a bit this morning. As always, when I feel a new sense of weakness or pain in my left leg, I wonder if this is it. Have I hit the wall? Is this as far as I can push that arthritic hip? Have I gone over the edge, and will it all be downhill from here, ending in a total hip replacement surgery? Or is this the start of something good? Only time will tell.
I once had a chiropractor say that I shouldn’t push because eventually, I would trigger pain and a need for hip replacement. I thought, so what. Instead, should I have the hip replacement surgery now? Why? When I hit the wall, then I’ll have it. So far, so good. Each time I have hit this juncture, I have experienced improvement.
I added a deliberate arm swing to my walk. I swing my arms across my body, so my right hand is almost touching it when my left leg is forward. What is important isn’t just the arm movement but also the shoulder movement that initiates the arm swing and produces a twist in my spine and hip joints. Doing this engages my glutes and abs in a big way. Maybe I’ll get a waist back yet.
I made 9,000 steps yesterday. By the time I got up to the second fire hydrant this morning, I had completed 2,000 steps.
It finally dawned on me that walking down an incline engages the body as much as walking up that incline. Unlike bikes or cars that just roll down hills, the walker has to maintain control over their body. If you just drop onto your foot, your joints are going to be in an uproar in short order. You have to control that down steps; that requires muscle engagement.
Judy and Paulette told me that they were going to visit me today in their Easter get-up. I agreed to video it. I was ready as they came out of the driveway. They were too far away for me to appreciate what I was looking at, but I could clearly hear them. They were singing a revised version of the song Easter Parade. As they got closer, I saw they had flower-covered masks over their faces, and I could hear the words of their song. I posted one of the videos on Facebook.
There was some inner pressure to get to work on the book I’m writing about the reading strategies I’ve developed. Nah! I lay down and finished the Dutch House. There was a section in the book fraught with interpersonal tensions that made me uncomfortable. I had to drag myself through it. But then the book opened up detailing reunions and reconciliations. Much better. I don’t need more stress. I should read comedy.
I made spaghetti with fried eggplant for dinner, with a topping of olive oil, carrot greens, minced garlic, dill, salt, and a touch of butter. I found I didn’t have to call Judy for directions. I could find what I needed on the Internet. While the dish wasn’t great because I drenched it in olive oil, it was edible, and I was pretty proud of myself. The inspiration for my approach to cooking is my nephew, David. He would play with mixing ingredients led by whim as an adolescent. I thought I could do that. Then it becomes a form of play. Mike didn’t serve as my model because he was a very good cook with no failures. There were some dishes which I wasn’t absolutely crazy about, but there were no serious failures.
Brooks was my dinner companion, along with Mike. Damon gave me a glass Christmas ornament with Mike’s picture. I prop the ornament up, so Mike is looking at me while I eat. His eyes are filled with joy and love. He wasn’t looking at me at the moment. I think he was looking a Damon. Then again, I could have been Yvette. Whatever, I loved his ability to love.
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