I was ready to throw out my post treatment fitness goals this week as my expectations of improvements to my fitness have had to be downgraded to “It will take you twice as long as what you hoped it would, and then some.”
There has been six weeks of training post treatment; some walking, swimming, riding, and running. There was the dream of completing a sprint distance triathlon in January which I did last year a week after I was diagnosed and blogged about here. The symbolism of returning to this event is to say, I am back. One year on. I am here.
Unfortunately, it might be a bit of a stretch for me given I am still struggling a bit with low haemoglobin after all that has endured in 2013. I will have to decide in a few weeks if it will be possible. People have said to me “There is always next year!” But it matters to me. I feel like my life is “on the clock” so to speak and I want to achieve as much as I can.
I’m learning to face the limits of my recovery, but I’ve been a bit down about this.
Then tonight, I felt like laying on the couch but Mr Cool convinced me to come with him to the pool. There are so many benefits to swimming freestyle after a lymph clearance of the axilla, such as… increasing range of motion in the shoulder, increasing strength, improving the lymphatic flow by movement through the water with the use of hydrostatic pressure on the limb. So beneficial. But I felt like going home.
The breeze was cold and the pool was not at all inviting. I sat shivering on the edge and thought why am I bothering? Then, I kid you not, I got laughed and pointed at by some super fast and skinny swim squad kids. I’m not sure if it was my very thin and receding post chemo hairline, or my gloriously voluptuous, steroid infused thighs? Was more likely to be my incredible plastic breasts. I’m sure!
This attempt to humiliate me, motivated me to dive into the freezing water and swim a kilometre.
Don’t mess with me kiddies! There is no room for shame and no room for quitters after what I have been through!

You’ll do it Lisey. I have no doubt.
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I think you are justified in swimming in front of the little sh#ts and releasing just a drop of pee.
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go gorgeous u will achieve anything u set ur mind to ah young ones will always judge what they dont understand ur an amazing woman love love u xxxx
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This was lovely Lisa. You must be feeling frustrated right now. I have to say though – please consider that if the competition in January is a bit too close and a bit too much – you have already “won” by being here. Just by being here. We are all grateful that you are here. If your body tells you to wait, it’s not ready – there will be a time it will be ready again.
Having said that – you are amazing to persevere to get where you are right now – and your personal ‘push’ will get you there soon.
Happy Christmas to you and your boys. XXX
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Oh yes. Downgrading the expectations. Another of the four thousand stages of post-cancer grieving. I pulled my guitar out yesterday and had a similar experience; I put it away again. The left hand just won’t co-operate.
Cheers and claps for you getting in and showing those little shits. A little anger is a great motivator, I find…
Also: HUG. Maybe you can downgrade the expectation from ‘finish the triathlon in a better time’ to ‘start the triathlon and see how far I get’? One leg would be a triumph, really.
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You are one tough mudder and have the strength of a thousand women. Instead of swimming a km, why don’t you just slap the little fcukers instead. Far less energy expended lol xxx
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Your a star L mac
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You don’t look the slightest bit scary to me dear, Lisey. You are a tough and lovely lady.
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You showed those smart-assed kids! Good for you.
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