A visit from friends and the resulting consumed alcohol prevented me from fulfilling my oneaday duties yesterday. I had the basis of this entry plotted out, but I never got the chance to finish writing it. So today I will do two, as penance. This is yesterday’s oneaday submission:

Do me a favour, just walk across the room, or up and down the stairs.

You back? Right, how did that feel? Natural, normal, like nothing at all? I guess that’s how it’s meant to feel, right? The most natural thing in the world to just get up and use your legs.

When I walk, I feel every muscle in my legs moving, it feels like I am taking great big powerful strides (at 5’3” my tread is neither big nor stridey), and it feels wonderful. For a good part of the last 6 years my legs have felt more like large unshapely blobs of jelly with varying degrees of actual feeling in them, that I was dragging along with me for the ride. Back in 2004, before being struck down with the brain mush making disease, I was strong and healthy and thought nothing of zipping about the place on my toned little pins.

Five years of almost complete inactivity and only extremely sporadic exercise (which usually led to a lengthy period of inactivity) robbed me of all my muscle tone and produced said blobs of jelly. Having been back in the land of non brain mush for almost a year now I am also back to a regular exercise regime (albeit one that’s recently been on a two month hiatus due to broken bones). But I still have hangovers from that period. It took me an awful long time to recognise the messages my body was sending me to rest and recuperate or else, and it’s taking me a long time to realise that the ‘or else’ part is no longer a valid threat in the sense that it used to be.

Yesterday after two nights of very little sleep, and a third night of quality sleep that was abruptly broken by an inconsiderate neighbour’s alarm going off, I felt that old feeling of fatigue flooding my brain. Fearing the inevitable relapse, the ‘or else’ part, I decided to take it easy and forego any exercise that day. But my body had other ideas, gets to a certain point of the day and it starts nagging at me to move it around a bit. So I sauntered downstairs and got in my workout gear. Immediate transformation. No sooner had I started than the fog cleared, instead of draining all my energy as it would have before, the activity got oxygen flooding my body and doing it’s job and I finished up feeling great.

I don’t know if that fear of a relapse will ever go away, and there’s a part of me that hopes it won’t, because I never want to forget what it means to be disabled and I hope I never get used to that feeling of strength and power when I move my body that I used to take for granted.

So, if you are able to, get out and just appreciate what it feels like to be able to walk, feel your body moving and enjoy the sensation of health and vitality.