Déjà Vu

When the pandemic hit, my life changed from teaching in-person yoga classes 6 long days a week to working from home and sitting at a desk. A lot. 

When I decided to begin going outside for a walk on a daily basis, I’d walk half a mile, then I’d turn around and head home. This was a movement where I still felt the effects of stroke, and by the time I’d get home, my right leg was tired, heavy, and my toes were dragging. It wasn’t that walking itself was entirely new to post-stroke me, but I hadn’t retrained those muscles and neurons for long distances. Every time those muscles would tire, I’d rest and never lengthen the distance. I saw this as a limit that was there indefinitely.

Now, I gradually added distance. After a while, I could go a mile and come home. Then, I could go that distance without getting a tired leg. I continuously went a bit farther until I could comfortably go 4 miles and feel that sense of triumph that comes with the effort of stroke recovery. 

Next, I wanted to see if I could relearn running. Let’s be real, I’m not at the full speed run (yet) – it was jogging. I was a sprinter back in high school and I have no plans to try for a 13 sec 100 m again… The first time I tried this whole jogging thing while out on a walk, I made sure I was alone – I didn’t know how this was going to go, what it was going to look like, and if I’d stay standing. I wanted zero witnesses.

I got ready for my walk; I put my shoes on, found some music that would add some pep to my step, and started my Strava for the tracking. I had recently overheard my sister say that jogging for 1 minute every 10 minutes of walking was standard training. So, after walking for 25 minutes, I felt ready to attempt jogging. 

Beginning this was … interesting, amusing, and downright cognitively challenging. Amidst focusing on keeping my steps close and my stride small, I found out there was a lot to think about (understatement).  When I’d pick up the pace from walking, I noticed my right hand was clenched. 

Ok, loosen up those fingers. Check.

As soon as I’d loosen my fingers, I’d notice my right toes dragging a bit more. 

Ok, pick up the right foot! Check.

My right foot was clearing the ground, but I’d have a fist again.

Open that hand!

The first round was about 15 steps. For the record, I stayed upright for all of them. 

The next time I went out walking, I did the same thing. I’ve put in the experience hours to earn stroke recovery expertise, so I knew that this would get easier with each time. And, it did. 

It got to the point that I was jogging with a relaxed hand and a lifted foot for a significant part of my walks. Then one day that changed. I walked at my regular pace for those 10 minutes to begin, then jogged until I went back to my walking pace, and repeat. At one point while jogging, I widened my stride (note to self – you were not going to sprint again, remember?) and once that walk ended, I spent two weeks with a very swollen and painful ankle. After that two week period of denial, I saw a doctor and learned that I now had a stress fracture in my right fibula. Super!

Emotions ran high as I saw the doctor. I got fitted for my stylish, grey, plastic boot that I’d be in for the next month and I wouldn’t be going for any walks with this accessory. In this appointment I was told that the stroke had contributed to this. 

But, how?! I was jogging! I’m done with stroke recovery! I graduated, damn it!!

I learned that this was an equation - bone weakness plus irregular gait equals stress fracture. 

Over the next month, I rode the roller coaster through the emotional park. Anger, sadness, fear, denial - all of it. I recognized that I was hurt, my ego was hurt, and this felt like failure.

I slowly started to accept that regardless of where I was in recovery, I am forever a stroke survivor and will always be on the road of recovery. That may look like fantastic days where I can do things I wasn’t even doing before the stroke. That may also look like restorative days from injuries that may be connected to the fact that I am a survivor.

Now, months later, I have graduated from the boot and the ankle brace. As I continue (and begin again) on this recovery journey, I have exercises to help work towards having an even gait and I’ll remember not to try sprinting again. Ever. 

Tomorrow, I'll go for a walk again. First, I’ll walk for two minutes, next time I’ll walk for five minutes, and I gradually build up until I’m comfortably walking four miles again. 

Similar to my stroke recovery beginning, I’ll continue to slowly take steps on this evolving journey, even if they are occasionally unsteady.