When Getting Out Of Bed Becomes An Achievement
Right in the middle of a set of squats, it happened. A small twinge in my lower back. Not severe, but sensitive enough to quickly put the weights back in the rack. A few minutes' rest and then try again, I thought. But it was too tender. I skipped the last set.
After the core section, during which my back actually felt fine, I locked the weight room door behind me and cycled home. A little uncomfortable in the saddle, but not enough to worry about. Not yet.
At home, hair still damp from the shower, and ready for bed, the uncomfortable feeling in my lower back was still there. This could go either way now, I thought, pulling the duvet up to my shoulders. In the middle of the night, my back chose the wrong direction.
The mild pain had turned into stiffness. I tried to get up without pushing off the mattress. I managed, but barely. A few shuffling steps back and forth across the room, then quickly back to the mattress to take the pressure off. That's annoying, I thought. I lay staring at the ceiling for a while, turning slowly from side to side, trying to not put too much pressure on my back. Sleep eventually won.
In the morning, the same stiff back was still there. Damn. Shuffling to the kitchen, coffee machine on, bowl of yogurt with muesli and fruit. All the movements you normally do without thinking had suddenly become complicated. But every cloud has a silver lining. By the afternoon I felt much better, moving almost normally around the living room, from the couch to the fridge and back. I said a silent prayer of gratitude for a body that had managed to recover so remarkably. It felt like magic.
You only appreciate your health when you briefly don't have it. After today, I'm tying that one firmly in my memory again.