Back at the Health Club: Hating It, Loving It ...

Summa Health Wellness Center
Hudson, Ohio

The past two weeks I've been able to return to the health club to resume my (mild) workout routine. During the weeks I was undergoing radiation therapy--and in the ensuing week or so--I just couldn't do it. Zero energy. All the energy I had I consumed by dragging my feeling-sorry-for-myself-butt upstairs to flop in bed for a few hours.

I had actually gone out there during the time I was undergoing the first few radiation sessions, but my energy quickly dissipated--and I felt a little ... conspicuous in the locker room. As I noted here a few weeks ago, I quite literally had a target drawn on my chest--markings to help the radiation technicians to aim properly the Zapping Machine. No one really said anything in the locker room, but I did get some curious looks. (More than I usually do!)

But ... last week I returned, deciding to give it a whirl. I was still feeling a little ... rocky. My esophagus still burned a bit (the radiation had passed through it to zap the cancer cells they'd identified in my spine), but I was feeling some returning energy ... and I knew that if I just quit going out to the club, I would soon be Back to Square One. I've been working out regularly for years, but all of the good effects of that, I knew, would quickly dissipate if I stopped. And so ...

I was not in the best of psychological health, either. I was weary of this cancer battle, a battle that commenced back in late 2004 when the biopsy on my prostate gland came back positive. Surgery, radiation, heavy medication, more radiation ...

And then in recent months my mother died, one of the best friends of my life died, one of the finest students I ever had died ...

So ... I'd not been exactly ebullient, you know?

But ... back I went.

I knew I had to take it easy for a bit, and my routine is not all that strenuous, anyway--well, not all that strenuous for the Younger/Healthier Me. But for the Me of Now? Enervating.

Twenty-five minutes on an exercise bikes (with two "breathers" inserted), a mile of fairly brisk laps around the indoor track, 200 pulls on the rowing machine, 2 sets of curls with some hand weights. And ... SHOWER! (Because of some foul sweating genes shared by Dyer men, I actually kind of look as if I've been in the shower even before I get back to the locker room!)

My first few days back I slowed down, considerably. Taking it easy. Not wanting to hurt myself by ... pushing it.

And I did okay.

I actually enjoyed being back there the first few days: There had been times when I was not certain I would ever be able to do even such a mild workout again. So I was grateful.

I went out five days last week. And this week I've been out both Monday and Tuesday. Planning on it today.

But ... I'm back to hating it again. Every dripping second of it.

And I know I will continue to hate it--until, for some reason, I can't continue. And then I will miss it, desperately.