“If you can’t fly, run….

If you can’t run, walk; if you can’t walk, crawl, just never, ever give up.” Reverend Martin Luther King, Jr.

This quote by Rev. King is one I return to repeatedly. His speech was specifically about fighting to end American Apartheid practices and inspire those  beaten, tortured, economically suppressed and frequently killed freedom fighters to persevere in the face of  history, hate and overwhelming odds. It works; white supremacists killed MLK but his dream lives.

His quote keeps me swimming in America’s troubled and turbulent sociopolitical waters, but I also use his words to more literally keep going.

I use his words to help me finish a blog entry; now that my words and fingers cooperate like Republicans with Democrats. Twice now I have had to exit, breathe, change to some of my relaxing music, breathe and start again. I even took a nine hour break. Writing is no longer easy. But I would rather write badly than abandon something I enjoy.

I use King’s  quote quite literally to inspire me in my physical training.

I may not win, I may stumble, fall, I may even take self-pity breaks, but one thing I don’t do is quit.

This week I am making my walking goals. Versa sort of counts my steps, no step counter is as reliable on a walker, HOWEVER it does have this cute little clock face kitten that I feed with steps so I am more motivated.

I had an injury this week that led to a wee bit wallowing but over that now, back to working on my strength and stamina. No further drop in weight because an awful lot of popcorn was served at my pity party

My movement is freezing more often and my orthostatic hypotension is worse causing some injury from gravity checks. I also am having more memory issues.  This can send me off into all kinds of stories in my head that include no gratitude, no positive outcomes, but most importantly, no reality.

Change and pain happen in every life, clutching to the way things were and telling myself horror stories about possible futures add all kinds of sufferring to my not so awful situation and are just no way to live a life.

Going to post, knowing full well that even with three edits there are typos, grammar problems and possibly poorly chosen words.  But that is OK. Today I may crawl, but today I didn’t quit.

 

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I keep on making those new mistakes…

Day 3 without a fall, but then no one gets it right without getting it wrong. I am still trying everything.

August 3rd through August 8 I and my 250 pound, 55 plus year, balance challenged body will be participating in the Golden Games in Albuquerque, New Mexico.

I will swim, shot put, javelin throw, badmitton birdie bat, and airgun rifle shoot my way through the games. I am not “good” at any of these things. This will be my first time competing in everything but swimming and its been quite awhile for that.

Am I excited?

You betcha.

Am I nervous, even a bit anxious and afraid?

You betcha.

Doing it anyway with a goal of a medal, also You betcha.

If I finish at the bottom of every event, have a massively embarrassing and tearful anxiety attack and throw up on someones shoes, will I still be glad I did it and start planning and training for the next time.

Again, double “YOU BETCHA!!!!!”

There is a joy in movement I long denied myself in my fear of being clumsy, laughed at, inadequate. I stayed just fir enough to pass my military PT. Except for the times I would run around with my dog, laughing and tumbling or those rare slightly inebriated times I would skip and gallop, the physical play was all played out in me.

I hated the gym, competition, or anything else that made me a public spectacle. I succumbed to the pressure of thin trumping healthy, toned trumping strong, and winning trumping fun, left movement and sports alone.

I stuck to the things I was good at like writing, reading, science, and math. My recreation consisted of role playing games like Dungeons and Dragons, making costumes for Comic Conventions and brain heavy board (then video) games. I eschewed testing my (lack of?) physical prowess for showboating my ample brain power.

But when I was alone with my dog I would remember for the half block my lungs could bear the thrill of running in new tennis shoes, and the fun of swinging at a nondescript ball with a wood slat, My dog and I would walk in the woods dreaming of a real overnight hikes. My weight hung just above 200. Any attempts at gyms or diets came with shame, huge amounts of unasked for advice, and enough misery to make the forays short and unsuccessful.

What changed for me was finally deciding to just be myself, not triggered by some amazing aha moment but instead gradually birthed by accumulated pains of health issues, personal betrayals, abandonments and finally some decent therapy for my military PTSD

The old entries at Crowfae.com track my early efforts in overcoming challenges in my life by learning to bike, swim and run to be a triathlete.

My weight was down to 180 ish, I swam a mile a day just for the zen joy of it, easily ran 5K and biked.

Then the things I was good at got hard, not just the physical increase in clumsiness but the mental I had always counted on began to fail me.

I have cognitive decline and movement issues. This is not the point of the new blog thread, just background. These two new teachers of patience and perseverance created a need for outside help to accomplish tasks I not only once did for myse, but alos did for others. this l exacerbated my old friend PTSD.. The PTSD clinic recommended me to Recreational Therapy and soon the rest will be history..

I hope a few join me on this journey, but even if I am just writing for myself, I will be writing again. This blogg will be killing two birds with one stone so to speak as the only thing harder these days than competing in sports is completing a sentence.

Peace My friends

and go try something you have always wished you were “good” at….you will probably still be bad at it, but I promise you will find again the joy of a child in just doing it.

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Hello world! Time to get serious!

If I truly want something, no one and nothing can stop me. However, if I don’t really want something, no one and nothing can help me. Author James A Owen, verbalizes more smoothly this sentiment and also proves this rule over and over and over again in his relatively short life (compared to say, mine, not say compared to a dragonfly’s.) I say it more than I live it. I finished a sprint triathlon with a great deal of support from friends and family in November of 2011, and then have not raced again. I still intermittently run, swim, train, although my fear of the bike has actually grown with neglect of the practice. I am not the novice SOFT (Slow Old Fat Tryathlete) I was the spring of 2011 but I also have not yet completed a full triathlon, and as I write this, it is summer 2013.

What is the purpose of this blog? Sometimes I wonder what the purpose of blogs are anymore at all, I think to the mainstream they are as passe an art as the letters and cards I still carefully lick, stamp and drop in gaping metal maws.  I do it for the same reason, I am an avid visual/verbal communicator. I love to listen with my eyes to stories true or truer, read the prose, poetry and promises of people like and unlike me; I live to open letters and find the pen on page that says, “Hey, I thought about you today!” that can be opened and responded to on my own time table, without the rush or sparsity telephone and time.

That is why I blog.

Why this blog in particular? This is just for my “Try” athlete side. I am going to try 52 new things between my upcoming birthday month and the following birthday month, athletic things, body movement things, and diet things and class things and trainier things, and write once a week about them, why I will keep and repeat them; or why I will never,ever try that again. So that is why this blog. Between now and August 1, I will post a couple more times to just introduce myself, and get in the habit of writing.

If there are new SOFT audience members, please know I welcome but moderate comments. And feel free to jump in and share tips, trials and triumphs!

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