5000+ meters rowed, over 40 minutes, strapped in like this:
We were inspired by a double hand amputee.
I'm in the valley today and the next two, looking at exercise from a different perspective.
SpoFit: The nation's largest disability gym, located in Phoenix.
I had been invited to workout there for three days while healing from my broken hand; I have been assured that every exercise could be adapted to accomodate my injury. Despite touring the facility two weeks ago, my nerves got the best of me once again (I wonder if I'll ever feel comfortable walking in to a gym!) but were quickly put to rest by staff member Tim. He remembered me from the tour, and got me all the information I needed. I changed into my swimsuit, and headed to the pool for Ai Chi.
I had to wear my press pass:)
The instructor was deaf; as she explained the movements I found myself watching her expressions intently as I focused on understanding her words. Maureen clearly loved Ai Chi, and was excited to share it with us. After a 30 minute intro class, we were joined by a half dozen other participants in the 90° therapy pool.
I hesitated getting in; it was my first exposure of my hand unsupported during exercise (only my two fingers remained taped together.). As I cautiously moved it through the water, I worried about the sharp pains that often occurred when I tried to use the hand inappropriately (which had been more frequent as of late as I pushed my range of motion.) Minutes passed and there was no pain (I recalled that the good doctor had recommended swimming as an approved exercise)-I began to relax and enjoy the class.
Joining me were a mother, daughter and granddaughter, a Vietnam vet, an artist and a contractor recovering from guillain-barré syndrome named Andrew. Paralysed completely at its onset two years ago (and brought on by food poisoning), Andrew had slowly entered the pool unassisted. He shared that he was at SpoFit five days a week, and initially was in a wheelchair. Determined to get back to his company, his work ethic matched the most intent businessman's.
And I dare complain about #brokenhandproblems.
Andrew shared he was at 65%, and confided he hoped to return to work, running his company, in July. His eyes grew glassy as he held back tears. Two years of life, stolen from him, I thought. That's not how he saw it. Two years of overcoming, achieving. Humbled again.
Moving on to rowing, it took time to figure out how we could adapt the machine to keep me square. Eventually, I held it in the crook of my arms, held in place with a strap. The instructor was an national rowing champ; I learned more about rowing from her during the next 51 minutes than I had ever learned before.
Mine looked like the green line.
Despite the fact it looks torturous, it was actually a great workout. Not as intense, but still good. Man, my thighs look big.
Beside me was a petite woman, who arrived in her wheelchair. After months of rowing, not only was she better able to get herself around, but she had occasionally brought out her walker. The instructor shared she see resilient people like her, who are willing to try, and others who come a time or two and move on. Just like a regular gym, the 20% existed here, too.
Wednesday, it's core, weights, boot camp and climbing.
Rock wall climbing.
With one hand.
My perspective is changing; I'm challenged by my experience here.
Esse quam videri.
To be, rather than to seem.
