Running for My Life

I guess I didn’t listen-the cardiologists all told me to lower my cholesterol and in order to do so I should go on a statin- for more reasons than one-I didn’t listen. It’s not that I didn’t try, it just came to a place that felt as if it was out of my hands – let’s blame it on genetics along with a feeling that sometimes food seemed like the only reward for a challenging day or perhaps just the reward for living another day.

I’m not a big eater, really, I’m not, but I do tend to wonder why God would make all of the wonderous, joyful food items and place them on the top of the good old-fashioned food pyramid – ice cream, chocolate cake, cheese, potato chips. It’s not that I don’t love fruit and vegetables-and many would argue that there’s nothing more enjoyable than a good fruit salad or some roasted veggies- and no one ever died from just a little Rocky Road ice cream-but I guess it’s all about control and nutritional servitude – are produce drawers in our refrigerators getting larger?

Well after years of not listening…enough- I found myself with a blockage and in need of a cardiac stent -which then led to 36 sessions of cardiac rehab at the hospital. A somewhat friendly group of folks were there with me twice a week from April to September - most knowing that somewhere along the line they hadn’t listened…. enough. Some were workaholics, some sedentary, some enjoyed the finer things in life, and some did everything right but just ran out of luck. I was one of the youngest and determined to make this time count. There’s incentive there to keep on going-to defend your life-to secure another day. I think it’s easier to find it there than at home where somedays climbing out of a comfortable bed feels like scaling Mount Everest and there’s always a good excuse right around the corner.

I brought my EarPods with me each time and reacquainted myself with my love of music and heard so many new songs and artists that I had just avoided due to my love of repetition. I would take screenshots of the songs I loved and would listen again at home with ‘Alexa’-she’s always game for a new song or two. Somedays Kacey Musgraves, or ABBA, or Ingrid Andress -and songs whose truth could bring me to tears. I remembered so clearly how motivating music is and how it sets the pace for our both our hearts and our workouts. How is it that life make us forget that?

Each visit you are hooked up to a heart monitor and given a clipboard with a list of your expectations. Occasionally they stop by to take your blood pressure or give you some information on nutrition, follow through or lessons on total health. One instructor told me she eats arugula and chick peas for breakfast and can’t wait to put her feet on the floor in the morning to get right at that incredible delicacy. That’s when I knew I had some work to do. The equipment is top notch and even though I’ve never been a gym person I found the workout kept me motivated and I could feel myself building strength. Surrounded by those in recovery from illness and events I wondered why this wasn’t an offering to those who might want to avoid getting there in the first place. I imagine that might just be your local gym, or Long Beach or Provisions. It’s not like we all don’t know what to do to stay healthy- sometimes the gravitational pull in the other direction gets the better of us.

Well, after 18 weeks of driving to Southampton through summer traffic I managed to graduate-literally with ‘Pomp and Circumstance’ which they played through the house speakers as they handed me my diploma. I have to admit that I was a little bit sad to end this chapter and say goodbye to these new friends and the fierce competition of those vying for the elliptical. I applaud all of the folks who work there- who motivate us to build our strength and improve our chances for a long and healthy life.

Now, I think it is up to me – up to us - to do whatever we can to keep up with this trajectory. I know that we know what we have to do – to keep moving- and trying, listening and looking - at each new day as a precious gift that comes without guarantees. It might mean a cataclysmic shift in our daily routines or perhaps just some gentle tweaking along the way. And when they say farm to table-I’m sure they don’t mean a surgical table. So, here’s to living our best lives - to walking or running for our lives…. and doing whatever we can to make sure we take our time getting to the finish line.