Friday, April 1, 2011

Walk In Water

I laughed at myself this morning while I was attempting to “run” in water. For although God calls us to walk on water, I’ve done a lot of walking in water these last months. In fact, most of the time these days I walk better in water than on land. And running in water? Well that’s another story.

When I say the pool has become one of my favorite places to be these days, I don’t say it lightly or just because of my left ankle. Yes, I love the pool because I can run and jump and fall over without hurting myself. I love it because I can push and push and push without hesitation of doing damage to my ankle (for a time at least). I love the freedom the pool gives me, and I have had way too much fun playing with noodles, foam dumbbells, kickboards and the like in coming up with new exercises these last weeks. BUT. Most of all, I think I love the pool because it’s a place where I’m constantly humbled, encouraged, and reminded of the important, simple things of life that make our lives so full. . . . all of which started with an 8 am pool aerobics class.

My first day to the gym I spent more time talking to others than working out---which is nothing like my usual headphones on, get in, get it done, get out. However, “walking” with a big black boot draws more than a little attention, not to mention my machinations to maneuver into the pool on one foot were quite a sight to see. On my third day to the pool, I was approached by Nell, one of the leading ladies and a 16 year member of the 8am pool aerobics class, with an invitation to join them that Friday. She wouldn’t be convinced otherwise, and at my current stage of rehab (or lack thereof), I figured even I would get a decent workout. Oh, what preconceived notions we have about things . . .

To say I’m younger than most of the class is an understatement. Some days it’s 13:1, old to young,, others it’s more like 38:1, but this female dominated group has so much life to it, each person with their own story and a bond, like a big family. Even though I may be at a completely different stage of life than most of them, each day I’m there is so much more than a workout, but a dose of valuable lessons of this life.

I’m constantly reminded to appreciate my youth and that bodies do heal. My first day, I was approached with the question, “So did you have to spend 12 weeks in bed too?” Horrified at the thought, after my major struggles of immobility with 9 weeks on crutches, I was completely humbled in that moment. I went on to learn that Sue had broken both her tibia and fibula at my age, three surgeries, two plates, and a heck of a lot of screws later she does well on two feet now. Ugh. Two weeks later I met Sara, with the same story (replacing ice skates with roller blades) as me eleven years before, right down to the syndesmotic screws. Proof, ladies and gentleman, that bodies do heal at all ages. Since then and since word has gotten out of my PT status, I’ve learned of arthritis, fibromyalgia, total hips, strokes, lumbar fusions and a whole host of other things that benefit from staying active in the pool . . . and am reminded that not only am I blessed to be in my 20s to deal with this, but also that the body is a magnificent creation designed for movement no matter what tries to stand in its way.

This group of mostly women is always able to laugh in the big stuff and they don’t sweat the small stuff. Reoccurring UTI’s, shingles, funerals, etc don’t knock this group down, they still find reasons to smile and encourage each other on to the next day. Forgotten underwear after an hour in the pool leads to a public announcement of the fact, laughter and commiseration followed by a shrug of the shoulders. Life moves on!
This group knows and reiterates constantly that staying active is one secret to a fulfilled life. They know that limits are meant to be pushed in the right way, even if it means modification. A day of sun led to a day of gardening which led to staying in the deeper end of the pool today and pulling out after 45 min instead of 60 min.

They’re comfortable with themselves, faults and all. They’ve learned something from the battles they’ve faced and know that today is the day to live life to the fullest. Tomorrow is promised to no one. They know their limits, but they’re willing to push them and help each other if need be. They make time for coffee, and more importantly make time for family and friends. Stories are swapped about grandkids, kids, husbands, neighbors—new babies, granddaughter who plays Mary Poppins in Disney’s Broadway play, spring break plans, sports, etc. Someone is often absent from class because of a need to babysit. And every Mon, Wed, and Fri after class you’ll find an overflowing table of ladies chatting away over coffee and goodies before running off to do errands or the like. They know the value of friendship and refreshment of time enjoyed in each other’s company. Once a month they pull together and go out for lunch. This is much more than a workout group, as is life!

Here I am, six weeks after Nell introduced herself. I didn't expect then to still be here today, much less looking forward to getting up and getting wet at such an early hour three days a week, especially after I'd been allowed to do more in the gym, on land. All my past assumptions about pool aerobics have been thrown out the window. What I get out of that 60 minutes physically, like any other workout, is what I put into it. (Some of these ladies, gray hair or not, kick my competitive nature into high gear -- and a few could probably challenge me on land too.) What I get out of that hour in all other aspects, however, is truly what has me going back, because for this time, walking in water has been so much more than just walking or working out.

And for that I praise Jesus. He works in all sorts of ways, through all sorts of people! Often in ways we least expect!