Don't judge me for this one. Or do.

As I walked out of the gym today and across the lobby on my way up the stairs back to my desk, I passed by a woman I have seen around the office many times, but today it sucked. 

There she was coming down the stairs at a fairly slow pace, wrapped in her floor length parka and holding on to a cane. She has never had a cane before and didn't typically walk this tenderly. Enter thought process "Aw, bummer deal, she must have had an injury." Right-o my good, Watson and/or thank you Captain Obvious. As the glass door opened between us I was readying myself to offer my sympathies and perhaps inquire as to what happened - she looked like she needed a friend. What I was greeted with was nothing short of a scowl and look of disapproval. What she saw was a skinny, fresh from the gym, high on life, in-shape girl. 

What she didn't see was the injured, pained sad person who is struggling to even get to the gym, let alone put on a pair of running shoes, because when she does she's faced with the depression that all she can pretty much do is push-ups and dead-bugs. 

She is me, yo. And it sucks. It sucks not only because I am so incredibly limited in my mobility and am uncomfortable 99% of the day unless I'm lying flat on the hard ground, but because I appear to feel fine! Why wouldn't I be skipping around and happy? Yes, yes, it's beyond a blessing that I have skinny legs and a peppy personality (aw, look how fit I am! I love endorphin's!), but what about the fucked up back that comes with it? You know, the one that makes you wince when you move the wrong way? What about the searing chest pain that keeps me from breathing a full breath? Has me getting x-rays before a doctor will TOUCH me? What about the shooting, hot pain that generates somewhere in my butt and travels all the way down my leg to my third and fourth toe to the point where when I get up from sitting, I can't put my foot fully on the ground. And not on bad days. This shit is the constant normal.

Even as I stand at my oh-so-awesome standing desk that's more bad ass than I ever thought I would get to have, I feel like throwing up. But you can't. You just have an awkward feeling in your stomach where you feel like someone is just constantly either standing on your tummy or punching you in the gut. 

I have talked to people who have these same issues, pains, discomforts, injuries and we all feel the same way. IT BLOWS. You appear happy, healthy, fit and blessed. But dammit. It hurts. 

However, I can walk. I have legs. I have feet. I have nice shoes on my feet! I have a PT office down the street and insurance plan that pays for most of it! It sounds like I'm just an angry, dissatisfied, impossible to please, unappreciative skinny chick. But I'm just pointing out you never know what struggle someone is fighting.

Back pain, sciatic pain, core weakness are real issues. Bad posture is sometimes not necessarily someone's fault and it takes a lot of maintenance and work to correct and sustain. I have a healthy as a horse cousin who went through a lot of this stuff. He had it worse than me and spent probably close to 10 years battling through it. His lead to knee surgery and specialists and missing out on the life he had planned. My PT has the same issue. She's a physical therapist and chiropractor and STILL has the problem. Mr. Taylor is also in the club. All of these individuals appear happy and healthy (little to no body fat, generally active, adventurous, happy), and all are hurting in some fashion. 

We are all happy to be who we are. I don't mean to complain. I'm sharing my story because the way that people will sometimes look at me, cuts me deep and makes me want to scream and cry. They don't understand. They judge and think you don't understand their issues. It hurts even more when you approach someone open armed and their response is something like, how would you know, you don't have any health problems. 

Be kind, people. I went from running half marathons because why-not, I have nothing else to do tomorrow, to attempting to move my feet in a quick pattern that is supposed to feel like jogging but after 200 yards of it I stop because I don't know how to make my body work properly. I scoot around the house in the mornings with small movements and feel Adam's eyes on me because, well, it's sad. And you feel like a loser. All you want to do is bop around like your being loves to do. 

Sooooooo, you put on your shoes. You go to the gym. You lay on the ground and do dead-bugs and remind yourself you've gotten out of this place before. You can do it again. 

If you or anyone you know suffers from any kind of back pain, feel free and please, send them my way. Between me and my cousin we have several thousands of dollars invested in understanding and conquering the issue, and I'm happy to share any tips and/or advice they're willing to take. I have heaps of exercises and treatments and am a full believer in recovery vs surgery. It's a lot of work, but it's worth it. 

Happy squirrel exercising his beautifully strong core! Go, Jimbo!