Friday, August 24, 2018

Working out as a function of privilege

I’ve been thinking about this for the last few weeks as I’ve been swimming for exercise. While I’ve always thought of running as a (fairly) cheap form of exercise, and thus possibly one that most people could do, assuming their health permits, that’s not entirely true. Aside from gear—which can go from super cheap $50 running shoes, plus running clothes from Walmart or Target (and believe me, you can spend a whole lot more), you’ve also got to have access to a safe place to run.

I’ve run in some sketchy neighborhoods, but I know that’s not something everyone would feel safe doing. I run super early when hardly anyone is around, I vary my routes and while not all the areas have sidewalks, the streets are decently lit. I don’t run on trails (personal preference and not because of safety concerns) although there are a few trails within a short 5 to 10-minute drive. But if I lived in the inner city (and when I did live in Boston), traffic becomes a much larger concern as does dodging people out and about walking on the sidewalks.

Swimming is especially problematic, I think. First you have to have access to a pool, and then you need swim lessons. With running, even if your running form is awful, you can do it. You may end up with some injuries but barring a car accident or a cardiac event, you won’t die. You’ll just hurt. Swimming isn’t like that, so lessons are pretty much required. And those cost money. Plus if you took lessons when you were a kid, the way I did, someone has to haul you there and back. And you need a swim suit, and probably a swim cap, and maybe goggles and no slip shoes to wear around the pool. Those are pretty big economic hurdles.

Yes, I'm reusing this photo.
You're looking at $69 worth of gear.
Case in point, here’s roughly what I’ve spent to gear up for swimming:

  • Speedo one-piece suit: $78 (that was an eye opener, seems they rarely if ever go on sale)
  • Land’s End two piece tankini that’s suitable for swimming laps, so not a loose floaty thing: $50 (and that was a sale purchase)
  • EVA Birkenstock shoes (look like the old school Dr. Scholl’s I wore in high school and don’t slip): $29 (I don’t own flipflops that would work)
  • Goggles: $23 and $35. I wear the $23 version, but tried the $35 version so they can’t be returned—a sunk cost for sure.
  • Swim cap: $11
  • Gym with a pool membership: $51 a month or $612 for the year (had to commit to a full year to get that price)

So I've spent $197 for gear plus another $612 for the year of access to the pool. I can afford it, although not without a wince. And I already know how to swim or I’d have had to go to a different gym and pay for lessons.

I’m lucky and I know it.

Thursday, August 9, 2018

It's only going to get harder

My follow up appointment with the orthopedist was just over two weeks ago. As I expected, he had another x-ray taken to see how the break is healing and then basically told me no, I still can’t do much of anything. No walking for exercise, no strength work, no yoga, definitely no running, nothing. Oh OK, he said, I could do some light swimming. He was very clear that I wasn’t to spend hours in the pool, and then had me schedule another follow up appointment six weeks later. He did show me what he called the "fluffy bone callus" where the break is healing. I don't know that I'd have described bone as fluffy but I did see it on the x-ray.

The day after that appointment, I ditched the crutches at work and in typical Elizabeth fashion, promptly overdid it by including some stairs as I walked from meeting to meeting. While the pain never rose to the same level as when the break was diagnosed, I was pretty uncomfortable even while just sitting still. I called the orthopedist that day and asked for guidance (because yes, apparently I am that woman who needs to be told to stop doing something) and was told to stop weight bearing until I could do it with no pain. Well, OK, I went back on the crutches until this last weekend. I’ve been able to go without them at work this week, although I still have weird, random times when that fracture site just gets seriously annoyed. I wish I could figure out what the common denominator was, but honestly there doesn’t seem to be one.

Plastic Birks so I don't slip
and fall at the pool
I’ve also started light swimming. I took swim lessons for years as a kid—I’ve got fond memories of the YMCA in Bryn Mawr and I’ve always loved the water. It’s good for me right now because it’s non-weight bearing, I can get my heart rate up and get a bit of a cardio workout.

But at the same time, it doesn’t have the same positive mental impact on me that running does. With running, I think differently and I’m outside seeing things, noticing the neighborhood, it’s quiet and lovely and my own private time. I worked for years on my running form and had reached the point where I didn’t need to focus on my form every minute of my run. I could get in a zone and just go with it. Swimming though, isn’t nearly so automatic. There’s so much to think about and focus on, it’s noisy what with all the exhaling under water and I’m not especially good at it. I miss having something I excel in.

I hope I’m cleared for some more activity in early September, although I fear I won’t be. I mean, at this point he hasn’t even brought up physical therapy, which is discouraging. And I think I’m moving into the really tough part of recovery, where I’m going to be pain-free or mostly pain-free but still not cleared to do anything.

About the photo on the left: I use two different types of goggles because they both leave serious marks on my face and this way, I'm distributing those marks. And that swim cap works pretty well. While some of my hair does get wet, the cap keeps water out of my ears which I think is pretty amazing.