Sea legs

Gimme a beat!
If there was one true thing in this world, it was that I could always beat Nick at leg wrestling. I came about this accomplishment quite naturally – through my genes, mostly. I’m from pretty hearty stock, in case you haven’t noticed. That, and the 20 years of dance probably didn’t hurt either.

I got the nickname quadzilla for obvious reasons. Twinkletoes was another moniker. My muscles were defined fairly early; at 5, I was pretty ripped in the leg area. They were, as Natalie’s legs were described to Hugh Grant the prime minister in Love, Actually, like tree trunks.

I used to be pretty self-conscious about them – they felt out of proportion with the rest of my body. But then it dawned on me just how much I could do with them, how far they could carry me. I could do toe touches and high kicks and run and run and run. They never gave out.

Ain’t it grand, just how fucking amazing our bodies are? How this clump of cells and water and tissue work in unison to let us do things like walk and dance and bike? Of course, we take that for granted. I certainly did. I stayed in serious denial until I had to be dragged to the ER because I couldn’t use my right leg anymore. It took a few months before walking felt close to normal again, where I didn’t have to actually think about my muscles going through each stage of the walking process.

When Nick began biking and I began MSing, the paradigm shifted in our wrestling matches. My lower body strength became no match for his. These days, my legs still have much of that definition from my dancing days, but they operate quite differently. It’s like I have a  case of sea legs I can’t shake.

Walking is slower, a little unsteady. Running, ha! Dancing, we’ll see.

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It’s hard to wrap my head around, but this fall will be four years since my MS diagnosis. Aside from the occasional stumble (literally) and needle fatigue (yes, I’m still doing that), my disease path has taken a turn for the better. No true exacerbations for two years, which makes me want to do a happy jig.

Of course, let’s not have delusions of grandeur here – it’s still a struggle. I’m still hitting that wall of fatigue more often than I’d like. The hand numbness never quite goes away. My left leg … well, it has a mind of its own most of the time.

It’s interesting that my focus turned to my legs, but my physical health has been on my mind lately as I consider returning to my first love, dance.

It was quite unintentional, I promise, but it is a good  segue for Walk MS: Central Arkansas.

We’ll be getting together April 12 in Little Rock for the event, which is the rallying point for MS awareness in Arkansas each year. Please join us, or donate to our team, the Word Herders.

I will try to write more – this feels very rusty. It’s been a long absence, and I told myself it was because I was feeling better so I had nothing to bitch about anymore. But there’s always something I can say, or share. I hope you stick around.

One thought on “Sea legs

  1. Judy says:

    Glad to hear from you again and that things are going well.

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