New Priorities and Resolutions

Six weeks out of chemo and life is settling into a routine that I’m content with, but I’m surprised by the recent changes in my priorities.  I’ve never been the most motivated person.  In fact that’s a flaw that I’ve always hated in myself…although not enough to do anything about it apparently. 

Two weeks out of chemo I started going to a yoga class.  The first one was really difficult and I was frustrated by how weak I was.  I think I mentioned before that I fell over twice.  After that I started working out two days a week in addition to the yoga and that felt really good.   Then I upped it to 3 days a week plus the yoga and now I’m figuring out how to organize my life to up it to 4 days plus yoga.  I’m reading fitness articles and trying out new classes.  I’m ordering new exercise clothes and Bluetooth headphones.  I’ve become a gymaholic and I love it.  I get excited on my gym days and find myself bummed on the days that I don’t get to go.  I’m addicted to the endorphins and I care about how my body looks for first time in well…ever.  (I’m also disheartened by how few people understand the term “Linda Hamilton arms”.  The nineties were not that long ago people.)

But behind this new found hobby/lifestyle/obsession is the fear that the cancer will come back.  The tracking cookies embedded in this wonderful world we call the internet know about my cancer, so every social media site I go to pops up articles about cancer and new research and treatment.  It’s creepy but occasionally I see something interesting.  When I started with my treatment, I was intense about kicking fear to curb.  We are constantly told about all the things that cause cancer (it’s everything by the way) and it’s easy to fall into that paranoid space but I was adamant that wasn’t going to be me.  And yet, it is me.

I’ve started drinking the occasional glass of wine or beer but I hesitate every time because I worry about my body.  In fact I rarely finish even one glass.  I worry about my sugar intake and I’ve completely given up meat except for fish.  I check my moles more frequently than I probably need to and I will make my husband look at them, just in case they look different.  It’s not the kind of fear that has taken over my life, it’s just that voice in the back of my mind that reminds me more often than I like that I’m not invincible and that shit happens that we cannot control.  Knowing that and having actually lived through it are two completely different things. 

And so I work out, and I feel powerful again and in control.  Between working full time, parenting full time and exercising I am having a hard time finding time to work on my knitting and my dyeing and I am missing it.  I still have projects going but it’s definitely taken a back burner.  So this year as we approach the time of resolutions, mine will be to find time to do it all.  I will get my business off the ground this year.  I will have a rockin’ body, and I will be a bad ass mom who is always planning new adventures.  My garden will thrive and there will be taco parties again.  It's a tall order but what can I say, I'm motivated to live the life I want.