Deliverance

I just got back from the gym.

Let that sink in for a second.

It is a completely mundane sentence describing a completely mundane event... But to my ears it is sweet, sweet music.

Don't get me wrong. I hate the gym. It is exercise devoid of any purpose other than aesthetics. There is no fun to be had there. It smells of old sweat, new farts and ever-present armpits. Plus the people are all fitter than me, and those that aren't are stronger. And I'm weak and scrawny, where I'm not round and bouncy... and there are mirrors everywhere! In short... it rates slightly higher that an orange-juice enema on my personal list of fun things to do.

So why am I so pissed off that I haven't been able to go for the last 6 months?

Because the afterglow is awesome. Being there is like finger-nails screeching down the black-board of my soul. But afterwards I feel like I've done something. Something worthwhile. For my entire teens I ignored my body. I did what I wanted (ie. nothing), ate what I wanted (ie. crap) and was oblivious to the fact that there even were consequences. "I'll get fit eventually" was an often coined thought. Well, my friends, "eventually" arrived some time last year and I was playing sport, gyming regularly, eating well, losing weight... then BAM... "You have Ankylosing Spondylitis" says the good Doctor.

That, for those of you who don't know (I didn't), is this cool kind of arthritis that slowly fuses the bones in your spine together over a period of about 30 years until you are eventually walking around with a bamboo pole in your back. Yeah, I was pretty excited too. Early stages manifest themselves in back stiffness, massive loss of sleep and basically a whole butt-load of pain. I was considered, and I quote, "a textbook case". Mmm promising... Traditionally the condition has been treated with steadily stronger anti-inflammatory drugs, and this has met a limited degree of success. I have been on some pretty heavy ones for about 6 months and while they actually let me sleep, I still couldn't get out of bed without some serious elbow leverage.

But then an Angel, in the form of my Rheumatologist Professor Patrick McNeil, said unto me:

No, that is not the way.
We shall put you on this new improved drug
that has only just come out and is really good.
You'll need to fill out all these forms
and do exercises for 3 months
and do all this other nonsense.
But persevere, have faith,
and your time will come

And I did all of these things and lo, a prescription arrived. And Humira was its name.

6 months of pain. Starting in my back. Moving to my shoulder and then my neck. No sleep. No mobility.

How long did it take to fix this?

2 DAYS!


So now I'm going to get fit again and try Parkour... and possibly break myself all over again.
But if I don't try now I may never get another chance. And I know that I will try everything I can while I have a body that works.

Sometimes, as clichéd as it sounds, you really don't know what you have until it's gone. So I suggest you go out and try something that you have been meaning to. I'll see you there... unless it's at the bloody gym.