After spending a lot of time on my yoga mat...and was actually able to move and do some stuff that's totally normal for me to do, that I've been doing for 22 years, and I had a small epiphany....
My seven years of experience with Mrs. Ventura has taught me that the pain from her cardio kickboxing workout comes on two days after said workout. I cannot tell you how many times my boys have complained to me about their arms or legs hurting and, after triaging them, say, "What did you do in Hapkido two days ago?" Because 99 out of 100 times, they're hurting because they worked out with Mrs. V.
And that particular Tuesday, in Warrior Fit (AKA Cardio Kickboxing) we did this...
 |
| Tuesday's low back ass kicking workout |
Before we go any further, I stopped at about 20 push ups...more on that later...but mostly because I ran out of time. Mostly.
200 ground kicks...so this is where we get on all fours, and then do side kicks on a bag. Think male dog peeing on a tree. (Sorry Meghan) That. And kicking 200 times. On each side.
100 roundhouse kicks...and we're doing what's affectionately known as Meghan Math...so again, 100 on each side. Roundhouse kicks are absolutely my favorite kick because I've really practiced those. A lot. And they are powerful. This is where I am thankful I have big thighs.
When I first started at the dojo, in January 2011, my friend KJ talked me into going to this cardio kickboxing class, at 7 pm on Tuesday and Thursday. Sure. Why not?
So, here you go, Randy Anderson, here are your children, you are completely responsible for bedtime. I'm with the boys ALL.THE.TIME. and I very much appreciate having the opportunity to be home and teach my online college Health class...but if I don't go at least try one class, I may end up wearing orange for a long, LONG time. And being traded for contraband. So, really, I'm going to relieve the stress of being a mom, and as the only female in my home, I need a fuckin break from all the penises and the guns and shooting. Because when you birth boys, you learn very quickly that they were born with pointy things that shoot. The boys were 4 and 2; the only diagnosis we had at the time was my older son's epilepsy.
Two weeks into becoming a regular in class I crawled over to Meghan, and said something like, "If I keep doing this, will my husband be able to bounce a quarter off my ass? Because your ass is awesome. I mean I know you could kick my ass for saying this on your mat, and I know you can take me from here, and I totally don't mean any disrespect in your dojo...but still...your ass is hot and gives me hope."
Fortunately for me, Mrs. V. speaks my language and she did not Hapkido me. Because she could've taken me from there. Because she's that much of a Bad Ass. She's a highly trained weapon and I would absolutely want her on my team should I ever find myself in a dark alley.
And fortunately for my entire family, Mrs. V meets each of us where we are...because we each have our own shenanigans to deal with....we've been in some pretty dark alleys.
Anyway...so I am again, finding myself reminding myself that I am not, indeed 18, or even 38 like when I first walked into PDMA. I'm 45-and-a-goddamn-half and I'm a breast cancer survivor and a mom of a kid with a constellation of brain disorders and I'm a cancer care giver and goddamnit I do NOT have cancer of the ANYTHING but when cancer hits you like it's hit me and my family three times in two years, you immediately go--IMMEDIATELY GO--to Cancerland with the slightest discomfort.
I'm not kidding.
Itchy skin? Skin cancer.
Eye twitch? Eye cancer. It's a thing. Or maybe cancer of the optic nerve, which is in your brain, so brain cancer, obviously.
Cough? Lung cancer. I don't care if you've never been exposed to cigarette smoke. You clearly have cancer of the lung if you cough. Every. Fucking. Time. Even though the cough could be from seasonal allergies. Or a choking on your food. Or a gigantic bong rip. Ya know...like you do.....
Enlarged tonsil? Tonsil cancer. Not kidding. It's a thing. Look it up kids.
Ok well, maybe that last one came true. But still. You see my point.
So, when I have a new and incredibly intense back pain suddenly come on, and I forget that I started working out again...partly because I have two kids in two extra curricular activities...and the constant worry of special needs parenting, which is a whole 'nother level of parenting...and managing his medications...and planning my younger son's birthday party...and the full moon...and then the whole both parents had cancer thing which is ALWAYS present....
Sometimes I forget to breathe...let alone remember that I'm just now starting to feel ok with doing a few pushups because my scar is healing enough from where they removed the lime-sized tumor from my right breast close to my bra line three years ago. And the muscles have atrophied. At this point, 50 pushups is not a reasonable number for me. Twenty is reasonable. My goal is my age. I'll let you know if I figure out how to do 1/2 a push-up. I'm sure Mrs. V. will create something. She's very clever.
I know that half the battle with cancer is being strong, both physically and mentally. And I know that starting cardio kickboxing in January 2011 and then moving into Hapkido in January 2012 helped me get through my own cancer, the death of my Father-in-Law, and my husband's tonsil cancer, all of which went down between March 2015 and August 2016. But, seriously: Fuck you cancer. You have got to be one of the biggest health-related mind fucks out there.
And, yes, I've be a little easier on myself since returning to kickboxing on a regular basis. I'm trying to remind myself that I am human, I am aging, and I deal with a lot of health issues in my family. Because I'm, again, a 45-1/2 year old woman who was capable of overcoming breast cancer, from a lot of help from a lot of people...and I am doing my best to ease back into being on a different type of mat.
Ous!
And namaste'
No comments:
Post a Comment