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COLUMN: Getting in laps

CHUCK BANDEL | Hagadone News Network | UPDATED 1 year, 4 months AGO
by CHUCK BANDEL
Valley Press | July 19, 2023 12:00 AM

For me, it was “several shaky steps for dude, not much of a leap for mankind.”

I’ve been getting around pretty well since having my heart “retooled,” as in a quadruple bypass, 18 months ago.

That was followed four months ago by a “men's” type of surgery we won’t go into details about. Let’s just say, never, and I mean NEVER, joke about your prostate being so big you named it “Spalding.”

I’ve put both of them pretty much behind me, but the words of the cardiac surgeon still reverberate through my head like a tuning fork up the nose.

“Big fella”, he said before the surgery, “this is probably going to take the wind out of your sails for quite a while”.

That comment came as I was nervously joking with the nursing and surgery staff that I hope at least half of them were Bobcats.

Since that October day, it has been an interesting recovery. For one thing, the doc wasn’t kidding about taking the wind out of my sails.

What used to be routine became a challenge. You know, like walking.

Pride would not let me use a walker in public, although I relied heavily on one to get me around the house for several weeks.

Silly pride.

So, a bit of post-op wobbling notwithstanding, I decided a while ago it was time to heed the docs’ advice and walk. Thirty minutes a day they admonished. Think of it as half a really mellow football game, I reasoned.

I started walking around the parking lot at the fairgrounds river landing on the Clark Fork, then graduated to hiking back and forth along the nearby trail that parallels the river.

Scenic and refreshing ... for awhile anyway.

I had a treadmill for indoor walks when the weather was too much. That was OK ... for a while.

Both quickly became monotonous and boring. I reasoned being alive and not watching the surgical suite lights fade away as I succumbed to anesthesia was a good reason to tolerate the boredom.

So, I recently moved my search for walking grounds to the local high school outdoor running track, which this time of year is mostly abandoned. No students to interrupt while I circled the track. Only a beer bottle or two and spent fireworks casings to step around.

And, by starting really early, I could get in a couple miles before the heat switch was flipped on these recent July days.

My first time on the track, I had a good time. Just a few steps away was what I consider hallowed ground — a football field with real grass. And although the track was not the smooth surface one might imagine (deer tracks from muddy days left an impression), it was a peaceful place to get my legs back under me, try to shed a few pounds, and ponder the day ahead.

Five laps into that first day at the track, which sounds like I went to the horse races, I decided to take a short break and planted my large behind on the middle step of a metal, portable stairway adjacent to the grandstands. It was one of those portable stairways a band director would use to get above the musicians while waving his or her magic band baton.

My keister barely hit the step when I was surrounded by wasps, apparently because I disturbed their nest under the portable staircase.

Several wasps left their mark along my hand and arm before I was able to escape, no doubt to the comical delight of anyone who may have witnessed the incident.

The only thing I could think of was “Benadryl” ! I have been stung several times and only once did it result in swelling and nausea.

But I wasn’t taking any chances. To my truck and home was my path.

I took one of the magic anti-histamines and nothing came of the sting. But I’m one of those folks who can get drowsy just looking at a package of Benadryl. I try to avoid going down the Benadryl aisle at the grocery store lest I fall asleep in my shopping cart.

Sure enough, my walk was soon replaced by a Benadryl snooze. End of walk, rubber legs the rule for most of the rest of the day.

A minor setback on a greater cause.

I will keep walking, a sport in its own right. Not like the race walkers who have developed waddling into Olympic gold. Good exercise at least.

I long for the days ahead when I can build my endurance to 5 or 6 miles a day like I did several years ago.

I’m hoping to mix in some weight lifting and quite likely pickleball.

Sports, no matter what form they take, are a good alternative to lack of life.

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