- The act of moving; change of place or posture; transference, by any means, from one situation to another; natural or appropriate motion; progress; advancement; as, the movement of an army in marching or maneuvering; the movement of a wheel or a machine; the party of movement.
- Motion of the mind or feelings; emotion.
- Manner or style of moving; as, a slow, or quick, or sudden, movement.
- The rhythmical progression, pace, and tempo of a piece.
- One of the several strains or pieces, each complete in itself, with its own time and rhythm, which make up a larger work; as, the several movements of a suite or a symphony.
- A system of mechanism for transmitting motion of a definite character, or for transforming motion; as, the wheelwork of a watch.
Life is about movement... It is measured, analyzed, and recognized by movement. Movement in growth. How one is emotionally moved. Where we move. How fast we move. Moving up the corporate ladder. Trains, planes, boats, automobiles... Run, skip, fly, walk, fall, crawl, twist, turn, throw, fling, crash, jump, roll, swing, swim, glide... It is how we live. We move. We make a move. We are moved.
My disease, like life, is about movement... and measured in movement. When I met with my Rheumatologist, he told me to "try and touch my toes" (which I did... thanks, yoga :) ) and he made too small, black dots on my bare back. He measured these points, had me stand, and measured again. My disease will be measured in my movement, or... my loss of movement.
As one grows older, they expect to lose range of motion, and to lose flexibility. It is a part of life and an effect from the hands of time. Me... I will be always thinking it is a sign of fusion. I guess there is some mean on which they measure regular loss of mobility and progressed loss of mobility... signs that the disease has advanced and fusion is an issue. As for me, I make a point to "try and touch my toes" everyday... to make sure I still can, to keep it that way as long as I can, and to appreciate my ability to do so because it may not always be that way.
I asked my Rheumatologist what activities and level of excursion I should avoid with this disease. He told me that he believed his patients should live their lives and be active in a way that contributes to their lives. He stated, and I quote, "So, if you love to ski... then ski." Thank God. That was a close one... He did tell me that this was not a good time to pick up new, high impact activities, but if there was something I loved to do, I should do it.
I skied for 4 days straight this weekend :) I would like to report that nothing phased me and I tore up the mountain like Peekaboo Street, but that wasn't quite my experience... It was actually very hard to mentally overcome what was going on with me and just have fun. I was very protective of myself and of my hips/spine. I didn't want to fall and I didn't want to aggravate my inflammation. Well, its hard not to. Skiing is an amazing sport, but a hard one that uses a lot of hip and leg power. I had some very sore moments and extremely stiff mornings. I kept wondering if the rest of my life would always feel this way... If I would always be sore and stiff in my very best and debilitated at my very worst...
I refused to let that be the answer for my mini-vacation. I listened to my body... took it a little easy and pushed it a little harder when I felt secure on a groomer. I iced, I hot tubed, I stretched, and I over came the worst of my pain. I skied all 4 days.
Movement, I have learned, is essential to the very core of my being. I am a foot tapping, dancing in front of the mirror, run up the stairs, play with the dogs, hike a mountain, kick boxing, swimming, skiing, cycling, push myself further, take a walk to cool off, moving kind of a girl. I am a mover and a shaker. This disease may change how I move, but I won't let it change the fact that I do move. I found more movement to express myself in and aid in my healing through Iyengar. It has helped me grow, and growth in itself is just another movement. Movement onward and up.
I appreciate the movement we create in this world more now then I ever have before. Just think... you, like me, may hate to run.... but imagine if you could never do it again... Movement is an expression, an outlet.... and nothing should be able to take that away from us. I have learned more about the tools I can use through movement to save my mobility. Movement truly will be my life, and now my greatest method in healing. Don't waste your ability to move... Use it, enjoy it, cherish it.. because no matter who you are, if you take for granted that you can move and don't take care of your ability to move... you will lose it too.
XO
Amanda
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