I got my third post-chemo haircut yesterday. The first two were a little emotional, but this was just no big deal. It's a bit sad, really. Well, maybe not specifically that, but in general it makes me wonder if I'm taking it all for granted again - being alive, being healthy. It's been almost a year since my diagnosis, and about six months since I finished chemo. Radiation is three months behind me. It's all kind of a big blur. Did all of that happen? Did I really have cancer? There are scars, there's evidence, but it all seems so surreal.
Something I'm noticing the last couple of days: I feel distinctly lousy if I don't exercise often enough. I've slacked off quite a bit in the last couple of weeks, blowing off most of my Bar Method workouts, and I'm feeling more and more of the joint stiffness and achiness that hit at the end of chemo. This morning (for the first time in months) I woke up with that old familiar ache in the middle of my upper back. I've decided to consider this a good thing, because it's extra motivation to exercise. Exercise always increases my general sense of well-being, but I've never had such a direct and profound correlation between exercise and feeling better. It makes continuing to miss a lot of workouts pretty unthinkable.
