running under the stars

When I was in the sixth grade, I used to love to run. I took it for granted then, the way my body worked, the absolute grace and freedom that I had as my muscles obeyed me and the sheer coordination that made it possible for me to run. I roller skated then, too, for fun. I had amazing balance and essentially had a joy for being in motion.

When I graduated from eighth grade, I got a new bicycle, and loved riding it, because it allowed me to go much faster, and with more grace and coordination than my older bike did. And I rode everywhere. And yet, I still loved to run. Much to my parents chagrin, my personal preference was running at night, and they allowed it because as far as they were concerned, it was exercise, and so they let me go. But what I remember was the feeling of my muscles working, and the freedom of pounding along under the stars as I moved.

I loved that feeling, the way it felt to run all through high school. Sometime after I graduated, my coordination began failing me, and the things I had always taken for granted stopped being fun anymore. A lot of things I had accepted without question, because I honestly didn't really think about anything during that time period, that I'm now questioning.

I miss the body that I used to have. I miss the grace and coordination and general joy that it brought me, and the easy ability to do what I wanted with that body. I honestly don't know how much of it I'll be able to get back. My balance and coordination are a permanent injury, from the brain trauma. I've learned to accept that. I'll never do handstands. I'll never do ballet.

And chances are pretty high that running a marathon is probably not going to be a realistic goal for me. But being able to run at all? With the simple, easy joy that it once brought me? That might be within the realm of reality again, when I'm back down to the size I once was. I can *feel* the way my body once moved, even now. Yes, it fucking hurts, forcing those muscles to obey me. I'm not even trying to say that it doesn't. And yes, the injuries to my hip and my spine are going to remain. I'm paying dearly for even trying to retrain my body to do things it never planned on doing again.

But I'm not looking to be able to be a gymnast, like my daughter. I'm simply looking to be able to enjoy the life I have, and that includes being able to participate in hers, when she visits. Ultimately, that's probably going to mean doing physical therapy again, serious physical therapy again, to work on my spine, and get fitted for braces for my left leg, and I know it. Is that worth it to me? You bet your ass it is, if that's what it takes to give me back that freedom of motion, even temporarily, or even on a part-time basis.