Wednesday started off with all the intentions of getting up early and going for a run, but laziness set in at 5:30 a.m. and we decided to sleep till 6:15. Got on my wind trainer and did a bit of a spin and then a nice brisk walk to work. Had a workout with my personal trainer at 11. By the time he had finished with me I was ready to be sick - it was that hard! The great thing about training with a personal trainer like Kalev is that he knows how to work you HARD but not injure you and at my age injuries come along quite often. When I went in for my first consultation with Kalev, he asked me what my goals were with respect to the personal training. I do a lot of running and cycling so cardio wasn't an issue for me. I told him I wanted well defined legs and upper body. If he doesn't kill me first I should get my wish!!!
After work I ran home and convinced my husband to run around the sea wall (Stanley Park) with me. It was a beautiful night (no rain!!) with little wind. Felt awesome when we finished and he was glad we did it. Here's a picture of us resting before the Ironman.
Today I'm feeling a bit under the weather. Woke up with a cold and a sore throat. I had all these plans of swimming first thing this morning and then climbing the Grind after work but I think I will forgo those and rest. When I am unable to do anything due to illness, I think of what it will be like if and when the Parkinson's will have its way with my mind and body. Up until now, I have been very fortunate with only a few symptoms. The last time I was at my neurologist, I asked him why I have been so blessed with such a slow progressing case and others like a fellow I met in Ontario who was diagnosed at the same time as me is on medication and not doing well at all. His answer was - you could be asking "why me - why was I given this disease at all". As I've said earlier, you never know how long you have before it starts ruling your life. But I'll continue the fight with my third Ironman at the ripe old age of 60 being my next goal.
When I think back to those years from 7 - 10, my mind is flooded with images of my twin brother. At the age of 3 I was sent to Saskatchewan for a short period to live with my Aunt and Uncle because the doctors thought the dry air might be better for my health - it wasn't. My mother told me that up until the time I left, my twin never spoke directly to them. He would speak to me in a language that only I could understand and I would then talk to them for him. It was very traumatic for him when I was sent away but he eventually did start communicating with them. I gather we were very close. In school he was very popular and quite an athlete. At home my twin wasn't so popular as he would always run away from home - I think he got the idea from that kid's show "My Little Rascals". (I would also run away with him but never got further than a couple of hundred meters down the road.) My dad would go out looking for him knowing he always headed in the same direction but each time he would get a bit further. When Dad got him back to the house, it was off to the woodshed for the "buckle end of the belt". It was a very dark period in my twin's life and is still affecting him.
If you had asked me at the age of 7 who I would want to marry when I grew up, I would have said my twin brother. I looked up to him and always wanted to be around him. We lived in this little community just outside of Duncan until I was 10 and then it was off to the big city and thankfully away from the pedophile who had wreaked emotional havoc in my life.
As I write this "Story" I must qualify that my parents did the best they could with the knowledge they had. They both went through World War II, Mom being in London throughout the war and Dad being on merchant marine ships two of which were sank with Dad being one of two survivors on one of the ships. There was no counselling back in those days for the trauma that they went through. They came out of the war with lots of baggage and nowhere to put it.
I will end today's writings on that note.
Barbara <><
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