It was an abbreviated Hash for me yesterday. My good intentions proved to be for naught when it came down to putting in the steps. The plan to walk to the start of the trail lasted less than a kilometer before I grabbed a trike to take me the rest of the way. I knew I wouldn’t be following the Hare’s trail to the top of Kalaklan Ridge, but my goal of putting in a similar distance on flat ground proved to be beyond the limited capacity of my lungs. So, instead of making my own 5K loop, I did two and called it a day.
My planned alternative trail proved more than I could handle, so I made my way to John’s place, grabbed a bite to eat, and then headed to the On-Home at Blue Butterfly.
I had received the Hashit last week, so it was upon me to bestow it upon a worthy recipient at this week’s Hash. Surveying the crowd that gathered at the trailhead, I thought Ken (Bug Fucker) would be an appropriate candidate. I just needed to come up with a reason for my choice. So, I walked up and asked him if he would give me 500 pesos, and he said no, he could not. Later, at the On-Home, while he was eating his meat pie, I asked if he would share his meal with me. Once again, he declined to do so.
I chose not to participate in the after-Hash gathering at It Doesn’t Matter; I caught a trike home instead. That makes two nights in a row I was home before 7 p.m. At least I made the effort, so we’ll call it baby steps towards recovery.
I walked the dogs this morning for the first time in four days (don’t worry, the helper provided them leash time in my absence), another indicator of progress. It’s funny how quickly activities you take for granted or even consider a chore are missed when you lose the capability to perform them. I hope to be back on trail in the hills soon.
On the way home from Royal this morning, as we passed by the Kalaklan cemetery, for some reason a song I hadn’t heard or thought of for practically forever came to mind. I sang the verse I remembered aloud, then pulled it up on YouTube to refresh my memory.
Memento mori, eh?
It’s sad to hear you’re down to such a low capacity. A friend of mine in the States is around 80 and is suffering from congestive heart failure. Has been for years. He measures his (indoor) walks in mere yards. Going from the living room to the kitchen is an adventure. At least you’re not quite there yet.
One of the things I like about staircase training (as much as I hate the training itself) is that it strengthens the heart. When I was in the hospital for my stroke, the docs did an ultrasound of my chest and determined I had a weak heart—another reason to engage in cardio/aerobic activity. Intensity matters because it means deeper breathing and a harder-working heart. It’s also a way to lower blood sugar (and thus insulin spikes).
Did Dr. Jo say anything to you about COPD? Inquiring minds want to know.
Anyway, if you see yourself on a road to recovery, well, that’s a good thing. Take it slow, keep at it, and get back into fighting shape.
I imagine it’s nice to no longer be the possessor of the Hashit.
Kevin put my thoughts to words quicker than I did as he wrote:
“Anyway, if you see yourself on a road to recovery, well, that’s a good thing. Take it slow, keep at it, and get back into fighting shape.”
Baby steps, do what Dr. Jo tells you to do, and you will be back to your normal hiking routines in no time!!
Thanks, Brian. Here’s hoping!
Kev, yeah, that’s my biggest fear–reaching the stage your friend is at would suck all the pleasure and meaning from my life. That seems like a fate worse than death.
I would love to regain the cardio stamina to engage in sexercise on a more frequent basis. The health benefits would be nice too.
Dr. Jo didn’t really say much about the COPD. I don’t think my symptoms are that consistent with the progression of that ailment. The pulmonary doctor who saw me adjusted some of my COPD meds, which she thinks will be more effective.
Yep, one step at a time. I’ll get there or die trying.