My husband has asked many times "then why are you doing this to yourself"? Because riding is my freedom. Riding is what keeps me going. If I ever really stop, I'll never get it back, I know that.
There was a time, when I was so sick that I was barely
crawling. Really so ill that I could not
sleep, didn’t want to get out of bed, but hurt so badly when I was in bed that
it was misery, yet feeling so tired that getting up just seemed monumentally
difficult. I had given up hope
really. Shuffled from Dr. to Dr. that
didn’t understand my rigid musculature and my inability to function
normally. Eventually someone referred me
to a Rheumatologist practicing out of a large metropolitan hospital. The medication that I had been given to deal
with the pain and depression, was actually causing muscle rigidity, thus
exacerbating the pain of my already miserable body. The specialist I went to was the first who
sat down and listened, believed and understood the dynamic of feeling so sick,
and trying to work a very physical job in order to maintain an income when it
literally hurt to just roll over in bed, or move an arm, or a leg. Working sick just magnified everything
further. This began a long list of
trial and error with various combinations of medications, many of which I wasn’t
able to tolerate. After about six
months of this we seemed to hit on something that improved how I felt, without
the side-effect of feeling drugged up at the same time. You
notice I said improved, not everything peachy.
I’ve had general body pain for so long that I honestly can no longer
remember a day that I felt great. So
why do I climb on a horse every few days, trot for ten or fifteen miles, sweat
out my body fluids, and pump up the Advil & prescription pain meds? That is rather complex to explain. Riding my horse is as close to meditation
as I can get. It puts me into a
mental ZONE. A very good place somewhere beyond pain,
outside of worry, just my horse, the wind in the trees, a goal, a pushing of my
personal boundaries a little each day.
It is probably much like the high a runner gets when the push a bit
farther. This works well for me on a
training/conditioning program. I hurt
afterwards, but it is the tolerable trade off of doing something I love. A
competition which pushes me outside those boundaries seriously kicks my butt. I remember one 30 mile in the rain/cold that
I got through the ride just fine, but could hardly walk at ride meeting that
evening. In fact, I could barely pull
myself out of the chair. I was
physically hammered. But for as long as I can…ride I will. Riding is my freedom, and though I know
better, I wish I would never ever completely have to lay it down.
If you love the ride, don’t just roll over and give it
up. Be proactive and do what is
necessary to get you to the best place that you can be physically through diet,
exercise, stretching, and bringing your self back in small doable increments of
activity. The advice I would give is don’t
over do it. It is easy to feel like you
can’t when actually you just pushed too far, to soon. Hang on to those activities you love in
whatever ways you can. Take the time to
get yourself into a better place and start again. Sometimes that means you have to modify your
goals to fit your situation. Don’t let
anyone make you feel bad about that. If
ten miles down a trail is all you can do, then in my book, the day you do it
you showed ENDURANCE. A week from now
maybe it will become fifteen, maybe not…but maybe!
If you are riding with a physical disability I encourage you to continue as long as you can if riding is what you love. Stretch your body religiously to keep your mobility, use light handweights to keep your arms toned, walk the dog (cat) or kids whenever you can. Just because you are dinged up, doesn't mean you are done.
This post could not have come at a better time for me. Thank you for sharing your experience and your encouragement. And good luck to you! I have so much respect and admiration for you.
ReplyDeleteI ride because I live to ride. I've also been asked why I keep at it when clearly it's only adding to my history of injuries but the truth is if I stop I feel like everything that hurts becomes more painful. I don't have fibromyalgia but I do have an assortment of bones and joints that ache and a pair of eyes that could go require much more invasive surgery. I do like your approach, that just because we're dinged up doesn't mean your done.
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