REFRAMED

by Reveca Torres

LOSING COUNT OF THE DAYS

Two, three, four, five … 11, 12 … I count and lose count. Rest. Repeat. I’ve been counting the days living through a pandemic, and lately I’ve also been counting exercises during my virtual workouts.

I like exercise. I always have, even before my injury as a teen. I would look through fitness magazines and curate my workouts, go for a jog in my neighborhood, or run up and down the stairs (my parents wouldn’t buy a StairMaster and I wanted a nice butt). Fastforward 26 years, I sit on my nice butt all day, nobody gets to see it but my caregivers, yet I still like a good workout.

My first taste of a post-injury, non-physicaltherapy workout was as a student at the University of Arizona. They have a great fitness facility for disabled students, including assistants to help with equipment. It somehow made me feel normal again and not like a patient. Upon graduation I struggled, and continue to struggle, to find a gym with the same level of access. Equipment is not designed for wheelchair users, people stare, hiring trainers is expensive, and membership fees don’t feel worth it if I only have access to a few machines or classes.

Today, gyms and yoga studios are closed, and virtual fitness classes are easily accessible. I happily work out from my living room with people from different parts of the country. The coaches adapt movements to different abilities. My family and friends can join, and it feels great to be able to share in elevated heart rates, sweaty foreheads and burning muscles even when experience and ability varies.

I drink water and remember to breathe. This is a new normal I gladly embrace as it makes it easier for me to lose count of the days and stay present.

“Virtual fitness classes are easily accessible. I happily work out from my living room with people from different parts of the country.”