Challenges

Mar 23, 2012

Time seems to be speeding up as my surgery date approaches, but it's still not passing fast enough to suit me! I work out three times a week, on Monday, Wednesday and Friday, and that helps. I'm still far from fit, though, and I get frustrated that I'm not able to do more.
 
I exercise at the Medical Fitness Center of the hospital where I'll be having my surgery. It's actually a step down program from the cardiac rehabilitation unit but anyone can join. I decided it was the best choice for me because everyone is medically supervised and you can't just walk in and make up your own fitness regimen. For someone in such poor shape physically and who is prone to biting off more than she can chew it was a very wise choice.

The first time I went up there I had to be wheelchaired because I couldn't walk the distance from the parking lot to the center. The person I needed to see for information was out to lunch so I was wheeled into the gym to wait. I immediately noticed that, at 49, I was easily the youngest person there. Most everyone appeared to be in their late 70s or early 80s. Many were on walkers and a few were even tethered to oxygen tanks but wow! Were they ever going to town on their respective equipment! One man in particular caught my attention. He appeared to be one of the oldest in the room and he was using the Nustep, a recumbent stepper. I don't know how long he had been on it when I arrived but when I left 45 minutes later he was still going strong! I couldn't help comparing him to myself and finding myself wanting!

Four months passed before I was finally able to join the Center but the day after being scheduled for weight loss surgery I was at the gym for my assessment and to learn what equipment I would be assigned to. The bottom line is that I was in such poor shape they would only allow me to use two pieces of equipment, the Nustep and the hand crank, which looks like bicycle pedals for your hands, and I could only work out three days a week. I was told not to do more than five minutes on each and that I could build myself up one minute at a time with each visit. I admit that didn't sit well with me and I groused a bit while I was huffing and puffing on the hand crank. A little old man sitting across from me listened patiently as he cranked along at a much faster pace than I could maintain before giving me a beautiful smile and promising, "It's okay, Honey. Pretty soon you'll be able to keep up with us!"

That was last week. Today I managed to make it up to eight minutes and was feeling pretty good with my accomplishment. But my bubble took a serious hit when the nurse came along and asked us how we were doing. Everyone at the hand crank table had been at it for at least 40 minutes. Everyone, that is, but me. I took it with good grace, however, because I realize that I didn't get into this shape all at once and it will take time to reverse years of neglect. I reminded myself that I'm already improving and I'm doing it at a safe pace. Sometimes I still have to be wheelchaired up but more and more I'm finding I can sometimes walk at least one way (It's kinda hard right now, though, since they've taken away my arthritis meds and replaced them with tylenol.). I've accepted as gospel the promises of the many WLS patients I've met over the years who assure me that miracles will occur as the weight drops off. At this point I am looking forward to the day when I really can finally keep up with my elderly friends at the gym.

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