I recently strained my left hamstring crossing the street with my dog, James. Then I realized that the right shoulder pain I have been experiencing and had attributed to tennis (despite not having played in weeks) was likely a mouse-clicking injury. And then I injured myself while sleeping via a freak calf cramp that left me hobbling around the next morning.
I mean, SERIOUSLY…2020, you are the worst.
After a few moments of light hearted self-flagellation on the Internet, I realized that I felt scared. And kind of upset with myself. I'm only 47. The women in my family live a really long time (one of my grandmothers lived until 101). It's ridiculous to feel like I'm falling apart at 47. What the hell happened?
Because here's the thing: I'm usually GREAT at self-care. I'm typically the person who runs 5 businesses yet still manages to exercise. I'm typically the person who simply needs to plug “exercise” into my to-do app and BOOM, I'll get it done (I love checking things off my to-do list). But this fall has been anything but typical; it has tested my ability to prioritize myself like no other time. There are days where, despite the fact that I work full-time, by virtue of being the person in our house with the most flexibility (since I don't have fixed school hours or client appointments back to back all day), my needs are last in the priority line…even behind the dog. So exercise was the thing to go because in my long daily to-do lists, it was the one thing that fell, well, last in the priority line behind work projects and taking care of my family.
My friend Asha Dornfest recently pointed out that my body seems to shout loud and clear when it needs me to do something and that certainly was the case this week. Fear of my body's collapse finally cleared the fog from my eyes and made me realize that I needed to take action. So totally unexpectedly, as I looked at the calendar on Sunday, realizing that there are about 10 weeks of this godforsaken year left, I kicked off a personal challenge to prioritize 50 days of self-care by the end of 2020. And everything, even 10 minutes of activity, counts. I invited people on the Internet to join me, and quickly learned that I was not alone. So many other people are hurting and in need of healing and self-care.
I finished Day 6 this morning and it's incredible how quickly my mindset has shifted in just a week. All of a sudden, 10 minutes of chair yoga feels like a win. And instead of feeling resentful about being the only person available to walk the dog midday, it feels like an opportunity to breathe fresh air and move. And any brief moment through the day where I gently stretch and twist, even while I'm working, feels like I'm slowly unwinding the damage I have caused myself. (I mean, I also partly blame Trump-induced stress but I own my role in where I am right now.)
If you've similarly been hurting I urge you to take time for yourself. Any type of movement and any amount of time counts. You only have one body and it probably needs some love right now.
