by maureen
The other day I was thinking about an expression my late father-in-law used to use: “Rode hard and put away wet.” Of course, it refers to using a horse hard, running it until it is all lathered up, and then just putting it in the stall without walking it out and cooling it down. When they sweat, horses lose a lot of water and electrolytes. If they are “put away wet,” it can lead to either overheating or, if they have access to water, drinking themselves sick, leading to colic or even founder. So it’s caring and compassionate to cool a horse off slowly, allowing it to drink small amounts of water frequently. So why was I thinking about this, you might ask. I haven’t owned horses in years, and even when I did I rarely rode them hard enough to lather them up.
The expression, however, is more of a metaphor for mistreating someone or something. And I was thinking about it in the context of how, over the years, I have used my body pretty hard – taken it for granted, really – and not taken very good care of it. I’m starting to see some results from that. It might be too late to undo the damage, but I am trying.
This came about as a result of sciatic pain from spinal stenosis that I’ve dealt with for nine years but that recently become much more constant and painful. The pain interferes with my life more than I’d prefer. It is difficult for me to sit in a kayak for very long and recently even driving to the Oregon Coast, about 90 minutes away, results in pain. If I don’t figure out how to ameliorate the pain, there will be no long road trips, only very short kayaking adventures, and probably no horseback riding, or gardening or many other activities that I want – and NEED – to do.
As a young woman I was always fairly active, athletic and strong. Back when I did have horses, I sometimes had to heft bales of alfalfa and 100-pound bags of grain around. But the passage of many years and a lack of persistent exercise have left me weaker; my ankles and knees complain when I try to run. I’m soft and flabby and tire much more quickly and easily. And most likely, some of that reliance on my youthful strength contributed to some of my back issues now. The bottom line, I have been realizing, is that I rode my body hard and put it away wet, and I’m paying the price now.
Although I can’t unwind the years and do things differently, I can start from where I am. I can do the physical therapy exercises that just might help, strengthening muscles I need to be an active single woman in the world. I can lose a little weight to allow my body to work less hard. I can choose more carefully the fuel I give my body. None of these things are difficult, none are as painful as the sciatic pain and the loss of ability to do things I enjoy. Making self-care a priority is not something a woman, especially a mother, finds easy to do. But this is a way of showing myself love and care and compassion. And it’s a way of saying I love my body and want it to function as well as it can for as long as it can.
So I say it now, and encourage you to repeat it with me if you have also ridden your body hard over the years: I love my body and deserve to have a strong and healthy and pain-free life, and I will do all I can to make it so. Starting right now. Giddy-up!
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