Life Is a Highway

I was so happy as I massaged ICY HOT into my torn right hamstring and the fleshy part of my right side just below my waist after yoga today. My sore muscles were exploding with pleasure and pain as I kneaded the cream in, massaging as hard as I could. And not only did I do Bikram yoga today, I also did a 9:30 spin class. I have never been good with moderation of any kind. I love to feel my body, pleasure and pain, as long as I am in control. It makes me feel alive and strong and real. The alternative is my brain and the crazy thoughts continuously racing around it in circles like NASCAR. I push my body so hard I can't think about anything but pushing. My brain shuts off. It gets a chance to unwind and relax. Pushing myself physically is better than the pints of ice cream I used to down as a teenager or the large quantities of alcohol and drugs and cigarettes I graduated to later on.

I used to run too. I got a lot of slack for my running. Boyfriends accused me of not making them a priority. My dad thought I did it at the expense of studying. Most other people just thought I was nuts. I would run a 20-miler on a Saturday morning at 7:00am no problem. Sometimes I would even go out drinking the night before. I like to feel strong. I like to feel like I am living to the fullest in every way I can. I like to push myself in every way possible. Before my first marathon, I wrote, "[p]eople ask me all the time why I am running the marathon. I never know how to answer. Is it to know that I am in the ultimate shape? Is it a means to an escape? I know there are other means of escape; sleeping, drinking, getting lost in other people's lives via reading or hanging out with friends. None of them sounds as official or as necessary as when I say, 'I have to run now.' I am a marathon runner, a marathoness and a runner runs to escape; the faster and farther the better. Running makes me more aware of my body and the connection between body and mind. Even though I am not using my mind, it is getting stronger while I run. During my second long run of 15 miles, by mile 4 I have gigantic pains in my arches. By the sixth mile, I take off my socks to make sure they are not rolled up. They are covered in blood. I throw them out. At mile 7, I take out my insoles and examine the huge holes in my arches. There is a severe heat warning and we get sprayed with water frequently. Throughout there are bagels, power gel, gatorade and water available. I try a chocolate power gel. Disgusting. I eat a raisin bagel before running to the bathroom for the third time. After completing the 15, I change into sandals and limp to the train a silly grin on my face. I just ran 15 miles for the first time!"

Now with this disease, things are getting very tricky. I can no longer run, a subject which is too painful for me to delve into. The drugs have taken away what little equilibrium I had. But I have Bikram yoga and I can spin. The doctors say exercise helps burn off the excess manic energy the steroids give me which means I can cut back on the Klonopin. That's a good thing. It also makes me feel like myself. That's a good thing too. But, I did end up in the emergency room just last weekend after passing out after a yoga class. I got two huge bags of electrolytes pumped into me. Intense exercise, the kind I crave is not good for someone who is perpetually dehydrated. But I need to feel real. I need the tangible. I need I need I need.

The newest way this need to feel real and alive is manifesting itself is a safer one. I don't think it's replacing my need for crazy physical exertion but it is tempering it. It's physical contact with others. I have always been very standoffish in that regard. I hate kissing and hugging as a form of greeting and whenever people in conversation would touch my leg or my shoulder for emphasis I always flinched. Now I am becoming affectionate and I love hugs. I love to feel other people. It reminds me I am alive. It makes me feel real. I love the necklaces I got from my angels and my parents so I can touch the people I love whenever I want to. I wish I had gotten the one I asked for from my sister and brother because I desparately want their special powers to be tangible and touchable whenever I need to channel them and they are not around. I am still a cerebral person. I am still a loner. I am still very private and guarded. But one more barrier between me and others has been removed. There is now another way off my island. A hug.