There’s more than just sweat on the tiny white Detroit Tigers rally towel I used to wipe my sparkling forehead throughout last Thursday’s Jazzercise workout. Maybe some tears, too.
It was my first day back in six months, after stopping to focus on preparation for May 31 heart valve surgery.
I was actually nervous before class. Somehow worried that I’d forgotten how to plié or chasse or, worse yet, participate at all. How silly is that? Not entirely after what we’ve been through. Time flies, but muscle memory fades after 50.
Of course, I stood in my old spot (upper left corner, front row) under the ceiling fan right next to Rebecca, who checked on me during the entire hour whenever she slid to the left, as if I wouldn’t notice. (Thanks, hon.)
Our instructor good-naturedly advised the rest of the class not to watch me. Funny.
The songs were faster and mostly new, as well as the routines. But that didn’t matter. I was patient and took it slow and steady. If the pace was too quick, I downshifted to half-time. Too many twists and turns? I marched in place.
But I did it. One hour low-impact Strike class. Fifty active minutes. Nearly 300 calories burned. That’s 3,000 steps forward. My Fitbit app was pleased.
At the end, everyone welcomed me with open arms. And a bouquet of beautiful flowers, no less. My eyes were sweating, too.
This often painful wellness journey has been long, familiar and worth every Tylenol extra-strength gel cap I’ve swallowed.
It feels so good to be back on this road to recovery, even with a few sore muscles tagging along.
(Copyright 2018)
