Sometimes it's better to light a flamethrower than curse the darkness

I did my split squats today and didn't hate them!

Split squats always get a groan when our trainer tells us to do them, no one likes them, but I've found them a particular trial during ankle recovery. They've so good for me that lunges (which are similar) were a formal part of my physiotherapy. But that also meant they were hard, no fun, and not terribly rewarding!

I've always been fortunate that my recovery hasn't featured a lot of pain, but that almost made it more difficult to monitor, and cope with, the intense weakness in that ankle (and the knock-on effects, like my already-atrocious balance somehow got (and remains) even worse?!).

Feeling okay until my leg just didn't hold me up properly can be unsettling!

I've patiently stuck with it, doing regular bodyweight lunges in circuits when other people are doing walking lunges with the biggest dumbbells available to us there (not very big, but still!) and having to tuck myself into the squat cage for split squats at lift club so I could hang on to the bars to keep my balance.

And now I can do (very slow, increasingly wobbly) walking lunges, and I can do split squats without hanging on to anything -- except a little kettlebell! And I might have to go up to the second-smallest size of kettlebell next time actually, I was thinking today.

It's nice to feel like I'm at about the level where I would have been starting if I hadn't broken my ankle almost immediately into taking up exercise as a hobby. I mean yes it'd be nice if it hadn't taken me a year and a half to get that far, but as with so many of the other changes in my body in the past year and a half, I try not to get caught up in what-ifs and wistful regret, and I think I am doing okay at that.

With bank holidays and various other shenanigans, there's hardly any trans gym at all this month.

So this morning, a pal and I took matters into our own hands: we went to the local gym.

This led to me yesterday looking at how expensive the gym sessions are, considering I can have a discounted monthly membership as a crip, and -- after much app inaccessibility! -- signing up to that. To get the discount I need to use the name on my disability documents. So it's still not a deadname, but a crip name.

It's the gym I used to go to when I lived across the road from it, but I haven't been since before covid so some things are different: I used to have a membership card with a bar code to scan and now I have to use the goddam app for everything, now I am much more confident in what exercises to do and how to do them.

It was still intimidating, and it was good to have a buddy there -- they're autistic and were also apprehensive, but we helped overcome each other's barriers and we were both very happy to have the company.

Another guy was really helpful when I couldn't adjust a bench to what I needed, called me "bro" or "mate" or something a couple of times which I thought was really nice. Something else that hasn't was the way young men congregate around the weights and machines, it's one reason I never used to go near them. But I had to today, and I had way better form than the guy doing bicep curls next to me like he was in a movie, heh. Everyone goes so fast! And they let the weights clank so loud every time (which is not just annoying but makes the exercise less effective)!

This gym has the same brand of dumbbells as the place we have lift club, and the weights are matte black with the numbers on them in shiny black. I can hardly see them at the best of times; I rely heavily on them being neatly organized at trans gym. Which of course they were not here with a bunch of young guys. So I'm glad I had someone to spot the dumbbells I needed (and they were even next to each other!).

I've now found the machines that do the exercises I am used to, so that feels good. I'm mostly used to adjusting the machines now (the leg press very noisily! oops). And I've learned a little warmup routine from my pal, who's done some work privately with our trans gym trainer, which relieves another big source of stress: I do a lot better when I have some structure.

It was a mentally tiring morning as much as physically tiring! But good. And it should be easier the next time I go back.

I went to pick up my bike today - it was ready to collect after its tune-up - and as soon as I got outside I was struck by how good the air smelled!

I love this time of year.

Also: whoa I didn't know brakes could be that good on my bike! Turns out my brake pads really did need replacing (and cables possibly too). And shifting gears happens so quickly and easily now!Both of these things made my ride home confusing, because my reflexes are all wrong now, but I look forward to getting used to this.

I had another incredibly stressful day at work (don't even want to get in to it; the sooner I forget it the better) but after work D and I joined a "celebration ride" of a newly completed bit of bike infrastructure that now meant a reasonable path from the city centre to one area posh enough to have protected bike lanes was now connected up and the whole route could be cycled in Infrastructure physically separate from cars.

The route was one side of a triangle for us, with all the sides being 4ish miles, so the eventual trip was like 11 or 11.5 or something, I've forgotten already because I'm tired. 8 or 9 miles is more typical for D and I, who are very occasional cyclists not least because I have a number of accessibility criteria that have to be met, like it has to be not raining and not dark (as well as I have to not be on my own and ideally yes it's protected from motor vehicles), which basically mean I haven't been on my bike since probably before the clocks went back last fall. It's definitely a British Summer Time activity for me.

I ran out of energy just before we got home, hobbled directly to the shower without sitting down because I knew I'd never stand up if I did, and felt extremely accomplished for being clean, in my pajamas, and eating the pizza that awaited my arrival home this evening.

It was a fun thing to do (I did have a lot of opinions about how terrible some of the brand new infrastructure was for pedestrians -- I felt safer on my bike than I would have walking on some of those sidewalks much less trying to get on or off a bus at some of those stops, good lord -- but I tried not to let work take over my brain any more than it already does.

We ran into some people we vaguely know (someone I met at work, some people D knows from local online groups), we had some nice beer and good chats with someone we ran in to, after the second line of the triangle had been completed. It was sunny, and 68°F when I left the house so I wore shorts, that was great.

My quads are so sore (having only just recovered from a brutal circuits class on Monday, after I spent a long day traveling so I was already really sore ans exhausted), but I'm so happy. Happy I did it but happy it's done.

D has booked both our bikes in for a tune-up on Saturday afternoon, so I intend to move as little as possible tomorrow before lift club Saturday morning and riding our bikes to and from the place later. It's nowhere near as far, maybe a mile and a half each way, but I'm not used to this (yet!).

I wrote in October about how excited I was to go swimming in the trans-specific session and then when I got there it was double-booked. "I'll try again next month," I said, and the next month was double booked too.

In December I was let down by public transport and in January we had visitors. In September I was away for work and in August I had to do Gary-care and so on and so forth.

I'd known about this swimming thing for ever and I'd never been able to go!

Today I finally did.

It was surprisingly emotional, to be in an indoor pool again for the first time since I lived across the road from one and had a regular gym membership so that must be six years now. I didn't go a lot though: it was stressful for accessibility-related reasons as well as gender ones I couldn't identify yet.

So stepping in to the warm water was heavenly. I have had a okay time swimming in outdoor pools but it's rare I've gotten the chance to and it's not very accessible especially as I need a wetsuit to do that: just too many things to keep track of and getting changed outdoors is stressful enough for me anyway.

Today's session was well attended but not too big for the little pool. The trainer made sure there was space for me on one edge as I like so I can touch the wall and stay straight (ha) that way as it's impossible for me otherwise.

I still swim on my back as a kind of accessibility thing: it means people won't expect me to be able to see them so hopefully don't mind if I run in to them. So I just do my elementary backstroke and it's so chill and lovely. I don't have to think about it and can just let my mind wander. I'd forgotten how much I used to do this and how good it is for me.

Plenty to think about lately.

Pro: my first set of lunges was good! I felt great. My second set of lunges was so good the trainer said "perfect!" and made a 👌 gesture.

Con: before I even got to lunges on the third circuit, my ankle was twingy and sore, I had to stop doing something else (I don't know its name but it's another "weight on one leg at a time" exercise, my nemesis) early.

Pro: The trainer spotted this right away, checked on me, and when I got to lunges again in the circuit, they showed me a new exercise instead! I did one or two wobbly lunges and they were like "wanna do some upper body work instead?" and showed me a tricep thing.

I don't think I mentioned it here but at the beginning of this month it was a year since I broke my ankle, and the day before V's and my mom's birthday was the day I had the operation on it last year. Recovery takes so long. And I try hard not to dwell too much on what I've "lost" and what will never come back. A lot will, but I don't know anyone with such a severe ankle injury who doesn't have lasting decades-long impact from it.

I'm also aware of the potential for toxic positivity here in the demands to focus only on getting better and restoring normal function, so I also try hard to make room for my grief and triggers even if I feel silly for having them.

At circuits tonight I did my first mountain climbers since before I broke my ankle.

The trainer and I both agreed it was time to start in on that again.

I just realized that by next Monday's circuits class, it'll be (almost?) exactly a year since I broke the ankle (and dislocated it...).

It's hard not to feel like I've lost a year (and lost some other things indefinitely or permanently).

But I am also proud of my body for getting back to the point where I can do exercises that rely on that ankle.

They strengthen the ankle too. It's hard, emotionally/mentally as much as physically, do so much of things I'm bad at, but that's the only way I am getting better at them.

Good thing that isn't, like, a metaphor for anything else in life!

Edit: Ha, of course I write this and then I get all the way there (an hour on public transport) and the pool is double-booked. Ah well! I'll try again next month.

I am going to go swimming in a swimming pool today, something I a) love doing and b) haven't done since before the pandemic started.

It's been tough to contemplate doing an activity indoors that can't be done masked. But this is for a small handful of people who will have the pool to ourselves so I'm feeling good about the possibility of it being safe.

I am surprisingly emotional at the chance to get to do this again.

No organized exercise this week -- no circuits class Monday night because of the bank holiday and no weightlifting on Saturday because the whole building that class is held in is going to be used for something else that day.

When I realized this, I said sadly to D, "I'm gonna go weird!"

and then I added "...er!" to make it "weirder" because I'm already weird but it gets way worse without exercise.

I had a weirdly down day today, low mood for no apparent reason (except maybe still thinking so much about stuff that came up in counseling yesterday) and I think the reason might actually be that I haven't even done the stupid little walks for my stupid little mental health.

To have a sunny day, warm enough that you can wear shorts, and that you can sit outside on the patio after work, waiting for your boyfriend to finish work so you can go on a bike ride.

To be patiently and accessibly shown, again, how to use the weird little battery-powered pump to pump up bike tires (something that always seems necessary for sporadic cyclists such as ourselves), determined to do so again before I forget, so I can be a little less dependent on others to do chores for me.

To zoom away on speedy tires at the perfect PSI, making for easy going even on my preferred route which is off-road but more hilly than most places in this flat city named after a hill that isn't there any more.

To emerge and explore a little of a part of the city where I had two boyfriends (sequential, not overlapping) living in the same bedroom for several years but haven't had so many reasons to visit it since.

To end up outside a pub, locking our bikes together while D goes to procure drinks, sitting watching old men in flat caps and Good Dogs being walked nearby because it's a sunny evening.

To drink a perfectly nice beer, a known quantity, and eventually wiggle closer to D on the picnic bench so we can hold hands.

To go inside to get the next round, petting a giant black labrador sitting between the bar and the menu on the wall.

To bike home in what feels like a quickly encroaching night, two months after the solstice. I get a little chilly but tell myself it's worth it for the ease of making this trip without having to bring or wear a hoodie, something I rarely get to do.

To get home to a dog who's ecstatic to see us.

To stand in the kitchen eating the takeout that arrived while we were out: halloumi and Lebanese bread and salad and homemade hummus, so oily I make a mess of trying to acquire a portion for myself and instead just stand at the kitchen countertop happily stuffing my face.

To go to bed soon after, because all the biking and beer and food has left me so sleepy.