This morning was the same as most mornings. That's not a good thing.
I woke up sore. Rolling out of bed was a festival of crackling and popping. Once on my feet, I stood, motionless, waiting for the sore muscles to accept that they were indeed being put back into service, one more day. When I felt I had a greater than 50% chance of not face-planting on my first step, I moved slowly toward the door, hoping that the pogo stick that I call my dog wouldn't knock me on my ass.
After padding around the house for a few minutes, the parts started cooperating, and I was walking more or less normally. But for the rest of the day, if I'd been sitting for more than a few minutes, I had to replay a short version of the morning, coaxing the stiff and sore bits back to life.
In the immortal words of The Dude, who was quoting the least incompetent of the Bush presidents, so far, "This will not stand."
I see people every day, some younger than I am, barely able to move. They shuffle when they try to walk. They fall into chairs. Getting back out is a feat of leverage, rocking momentum, and sometimes pulleys. That, sir, will not be me.
2010 was the year of getting my head back on straight. I ran and wrote every day. Those two habits served me well. They were the key parts to my process of figuring out who the hell I was and what that means.
And it worked. I've never felt more in touch with the guy inside this body.
Now, it's time to focus on that body.
2011 is the year of feeling awesome... physically.
My dear friend and yogic mentor Robin reminds me (often) that there's absolutely no reason to suffer. If you're stiff, stretch. If you're sore, take an ibuprofen and go easy next time. If you're in a bad place, move.
My plan is... ok, I don't have a plan yet. As my plan comes together, I'll fill you above-average looking readers in on the whats and hows.
I know I'm going to be stretching every day. I'm going to eat a little less and a bit more healthy. I'm going to do some strength work.
And soon I'm going to friggin' run, get out of bed, bend over to pet the dog, and generally live, in a much more accommodating body.
Image from here.