Power walking is extremely addictive. It’s therapy, a time to disconnect and the space where I’ve planned so many blog posts. Some of these stories are too dark, some are inspiring, some are about what I do and my purpose in this world. Some are about plain motherhood. Others are too personal to ever publish.
I used to always wear a thin head cover during my walks but later on,*to my horror*, much less. One day I found my old Ipod. It had tracks I liked back in 2007. I couldn’t, for the life of me, waste my time looking into downloading Itunes to collect new track. Is Itunes even still around? ‘Crap- I thought to myself – I’m old!’ But then I got into listening to those tracks while I walked and it was a great combo of hilariousness and nostalgia. I remembered why I liked them then, I remembered where and when I danced them. I knew what they meant to me:
My first exercise routine was Zumba and I attended quite a few times wearing a wig. My husband told me that I was crazy but gave me space to go feeling as ‘comfortable’ as I could. Until one day, two days before my last chemo, I showed up bald to Zumba. It felt liberating and I felt bad-ass. But that night I got pneumonia. #FuckYouChemo #NoMoreZumbaForTwoMonths #IDidn’tFinishChemo
I rocked at chemo (whatever that means) but not being able to complete it left me feeling like I had no ‘chemo closure’… as ironic as that sounds. I was pissed, sick as a dog and weak. And bald. And I missed working out. I was depressed: So I started yoga when I finished the antibiotics. And power walking two weeks after. Then I pulled a muscle doing yoga: I shit you NOT!. It all healed eventually but it reminded so much of cancer: when things are starting to get better you get another shitty surprise you were not prepared for!
I walked to the tunes of 50 cent, laughed at My Humps while embracing the new me and telling her that everything would be alright. Until it sank in.
Disclosure: Forget about power walking selfies in my hood!