When the days were hot, I walked early in the morning, including the Sunday morning I barely made it home with a TIA. In frustration after that day I decided to keep going until I finally get off these damn meds or I break, whichever came first. In practicality I started to carry my phone on the walks in case I needed to call for help. As the days cooled my drug was changed. Instead of my heart pounding I was short of breath. Frustrated with the lack of progress I added some short running strips to the walk to push harder. It didn’t kill me, so I kept it up. September 21st my old body came back for a visit, running was easy and I danced to the music as I went. Physical euphoria carried me further on the route, adding a half mile. The next day the visitation was over, but I continued with the extended route as if I’d find that feeling if only I kept going. The leaves began to turn, the air cooled, the sun receded. I sometimes had to go out in the dark, just me, the cold, the stars, and the singing coyotes over the swamp. I steadily became more short of breath and often dizzy, losing ground. Treading water is better than drowning. I kept going out daily, same route, same sections run between specific mailboxes or telephone poles. My dose was reduced, but the change was disruptive. I was often too weak to finish, but I kept going out. Treading water is better than drowning. More med adjustments and I could again reliably complete my route, which has become both literally and figuratively my sanity. Now the leaves are gone, the world brown and gray, walks often done after dark. I’ve gotten tips from other people taking these drugs on how to work back to some level of fitness, and realistic timelines for doing so. I’ve been able to increase my running distances a bit. My body is slowly realizing the benefit of the medication adjustments. I’ve traded the shiny glory of September 21st for the very slow improvement in my breathing, speech, and a host of other side effects.
Then today the snow came, my final jog along the white expanse of the pond cathartic. I watched the flakes coat my regular route. My life for the past six months covered in a blanket of white, a cocoon within which I will continue moving forward where I can and treading water where I cannot. The oh so beautiful blanket of white over the earth while it regenerates.
I will not be sorry to kiss 2019 goodbye.
