Get up. Do weights. Give thanks. by Cynthia Holder Rich

I wake in pain, roll out and don slippers.

Saying a quiet “keep going”,

I walk toward the goal.

I strap on ankle weights and begin slow reps.

They hurt. I hurt.

 

I remember when I asked the therapist

When the therapy would stop the pain.

“Oh no, the pain will not stop.”

The pain will not stop.

The goal is management.

 

I change to the next rhythm—from up-down to out-in.

I begin to breathe harder.

I begin to sweat.

I hate sweat,

But this comes from exertion rather than a mysterious-maddening hormonal surge

Which, along with other conditions that happen only to women, interests few researchers.

I remember to thank God that I can sweat,

And I remember my Mom, who could not.

I thank God for Mom.

I thank God for being in a line of strong women,

Whose genes I share,

Which are in part responsible for the pain that wakes me.

I thank God for awareness of misogyny and for the motivation that holy anger brings.

 

Certain exercises hurt more than others. I am on to the more painful sets.

I think of the strengthening happening and I thank God.

Some exercises are easier than they were, which feels miraculous.

I name those I love in my mind in time with my breath.

I name those in need whom I can remember

And ask God to remember those I cannot.

 

“Most people who have this level of damage have surgery.”

I teach a ten-month semester outside the country where surgery would happen.

“You would have to be very disciplined to avoid an operation.”

 

I thank God for discipline, which I have been given in cup-overflowing measure.

I thank God for amazing and meaningful work, and for the insurance that comes as a benefit of same.

I thank God for the ability to exercise without leaving my house,

As the robe I slept in did not have to be (painfully) removed and replaced.

 

My legs feel heavy and are tingling all over.

I marvel that I am nearing the end of this session.

I am hot, I sweat, I smell. Today’s pain has been managed.

Coffee is ready and exercise is done. For today.

I am grateful, and I thank God.