All my life I have been an athlete; however, cancer has put a glitch in that. I find a lot of peace and good thoughts from working out on a regular basis. However, I still struggle with my memory and with complete concentration.
I exercise at Orange Theory and it stretches me, but it is something that I can complete. I might not be anywhere close to the way that I used to be able to exercise, but I am moving forward and getting in shape. Orange Theory is a one hour workout split between a treadmill, a rower, and the weight floor. My ultimate goal is to lose the weight that I have gained from the occasional lack of activity due to the treatments. As I have covered in previous articles, I faced a major setback when I broke my arm last August — a simple fall from having to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night.
My cancer progressed to my bones so they can be weak. However, I take a bone strengthener on a regular basis, and this seems to help. Over Spring Break I wanted to stay in shape so I scheduled workouts at Orange Theory on a regular basis. Unfortunately, it was about a 45 minute drive from where we were staying. However, I decided to make the drive up there on a regular basis because the exercise is very therapeutic for me.
On this day, I had a lot on my mind because I had a close friend who was having a medical procedure. It was not a big deal, but it was on my mind. I kept trying to calculate when he was getting out of surgery vs when I would be done with my workout.
While my mind was wondering, I would quickly realize this was going to be a challenging workout. It was the kind that would exhaust you. Towards the end, I was to go from the weight floor to the treadmill. The person in front of you is “supposed” to shut down the treadmill before the shift.
I can remember my last thought was, “I hope everything’s going ok with the procedure.” With that thought, I put my foot on the treadmill… I suddenly realized that the treadmill was moving and I was going to fall. I subconsciously know to avoid my right arm because that is the one that I previously broke.
The treadmill starts moving and I am going down. My body somehow shifts to make sure that I fall on my left side so that I avoid my previously broken right arm. I hit hard and it continues to run and it spits me out on the floor. I feel like one of those cupcakes from an old “I Love Lucy” film… Boom, I hit the floor. I am hurting but now I have 40 people looking at me…
I have scrapes on my hands and my knees, It is a major shock to the system. However, I quickly realize that none of my bones are aching so this is just a “scrape fall” — thank goodness. It scared me to death, but I was having a great workout. This is the SECOND time I have fallen like this… How do I do this? Wait, why did the person in front of me not turn off the treadmill? Why does this happen to me?
Suddenly a guy comes up to me and is apologizing like crazy that he did not turn off the treadmill. I tell him not to worry about it. He obviously did not do it on purpose, but I am secretly thinking, “How can one get off the treadmill and go to a different station and not turn off the treadmill?” I am in some pain, but I will be fine. A small part of me is mad and wants to say, “Do you realize I have Stage 4 Cancer?” That’s just the part of me that is feeling sorry for myself. I would never say that, and I just have to realize that this is just another hiccup in the cancer journey.