Mermaid Update

I can’t quite believe it’s been two months since my blog, ‘Was I Once a Mermaid?’

It’s been a busy time through July and into August, and I can hear you cry, “Are you a mermaid yet?”

Honestly? Not yet. In my attempt to regain my fitness and become more pain-free, I’ve been following the advice of my GP and podiatrist. For the last couple of years, the doctors have blamed arthritis for the pain in my feet and ankles. According to the podiatrist, this is not the case. After watching me walk (or limp) into the clinic, her first words were, “Are you a cyclist?”

“Erm, yes,” I replied.

“That’s what’s wrong with you. You have flat feet, fallen arches and tight calves. All these have put a strain on the tendons in your feet, causing bunions and limiting the movement in your feet.”

Smiling, clearly pleased with herself that she had diagnosed my problem, she asked, “Can you stand on your tip-toes?” She knew full well that the answer would be no.

During the consultation, I explained that my main sport had indeed been cycling until Beatrix came into our lives. With an active Border Collie and a husband with bad knees, walking and hill-climbing became my main hobby. For the last ten years, cycling seems to have taken a back seat.

The podiatrist explained that my joints hadn’t been able to adjust to the sudden change of activity and the pressure that hill-walking puts on your feet.

I left the clinic with purpose build insoles for my shoes, a list of exercises and advice to buy some rocker-toe shoes. No, I’d never heard of them either, but after an extensive search on t’internet, I had a better idea. But I didn’t want to buy shoes online. I wanted to see and feel them and know they were comfortable before I spent a fortune on them.

My search in Glasgow’s well-known shoe stores and outdoor shops proved to be a disappointment. I began to think I was doomed to buy online.

But, on a trip out to Bridge of Allan to support a friend who had just opened a dog boutique, Kelso and Titch, there in the pretty village, was a Run4It store. Not holding out much hope, I popped my head through the door and asked if they had any rocker-toe shoes.

“We do. Come in,” said the lovely young man.

A short while later, I was on the train from Bridge of Allan, holding my precious new purchase like a pot of gold.

Have they worked?

Kind of. I’ve noticed a definite improvement. But who knows whether this is from the shoes alone or the exercises? I know that if I wear them all day, the pain returns later in the evening. So now I swap between my posh rocker-toe shoes and my old trainers with purpose-made insoles. And I am religiously still doing the exercises every day.

Could I take Florence up a mountain? Not yet. But I now have hope that this is a possibility in the not-too-distant future. I am no longer being kept awake at night by the pain -which means Mr M is not being kept awake.

On the frozen shoulder front, as I mentioned in my blog in June, I now have a membership at the Kirkintilloch leisure centre for the gym and the pool. Initially, I could spend thirty minutes in the gym before heading to the pool. That didn’t last long, though; it soon became just a swim.

Do people actually enjoy going to the gym?

At first, swimming was a bit of a pantomime. My frozen shoulder prevented me from manoeuvring my arms enough to get my swimming costume on. Well, they are tight, and mine is definitely snug at the moment! Mr M came to the rescue (as always) and helped me into my costume at home. He offered to accompany me to the pool and help me get out of the wet costume. I declined this kind offer, deciding that, with a bit of cursing and groaning, I could manage this myself.

The first few sessions were brief, and the swimming was slow. My right arm would not sit level with my left arm as I did the breaststroke, which caused me to swim with a bit of a roll. I could hear my old swimming coach shouting at me to sort myself out. The front crawl was definitely out of the question. Twenty lengths were my limit, but I could soon see an improvement by getting to the pool three to four times a week.

Twenty lengths became 30, then 40. Then, on the day I crept up to 50 lengths, I noticed that my right arm allowed me to do an almost perfect breaststroke.

Taking a deep breath, I pushed myself off the edge of the pool to try a length of front crawl. I hoped nobody had been watching me as I attempted my first stroke and heard myself splutter and cry out in pain.

Breaststroke it will be for a bit longer. So whilst I’m not quite a mermaid yet, I’m well on my way. I certainly have an air of Eau de Chlorine about me. My frozen shoulder has not completely healed, but there has been a definite thawing. Maybe it’s just cold now.

Last week I had a break from my mermaid activities as I was on full-time Grandma duties with Minnie-the-Minx, or Mad-Max, staying for a week. When Beatrix told me the tales for her book, she taught me a great deal about seeing the world from a dog’s eyes. Minnie reminded me how life can seem as a little four-year-old child.

• Bagpipes and brass bands are way too noisy and totally unnecessary.
• Closing the streets of Glasgow for a cycle race (even if it is the world cycling championships) encourages too many people to stand around in the streets.
• Shoe shops try to sell you the wrong size of shoes. Why would a four-year-old girl want a size eight shoe? Surely everyone knows that a four-year-old girl needs a size four shoe.
• Having tea in Grandma’s campervan outside Grandma’s house is just the most exciting thing in the world.
• There is a lot of sea and sand on Barassie Beach.
• Children should tuck their vests into their knickers when they go down big, giant, massive slides at the play gym.
• Grandma is amazing because she climbs up mountains just like that.

But Minnie is back in Halifax now. I’ve caught back up with my sleep. Florence can sleep on the couch again (even though she’s not allowed on the furniture), and Mr M has just me to cater for.

Becoming a mermaid has resumed. My frozen shoulder is now almost pain free, but still with limited movement. Strong painkillers are no longer needed, and the light at the end of the tunnel is getting brighter.

But today, I exceeded all my plans. I aimed to try a short cycle next month. Today, I couldn’t wait any longer.

“I’m going out on my bike,” I announced over my porridge.

Mr M raised his eyebrows. “Phone me if you need me,” he sighed, and continued to eat his hot buttered toast.

And I did it. I cycled for the first time in nearly a year. I’m sure I had a smile on my face all the time I was out. Admittedly, it was a short cycle – Kirkintilloch to Clachan of Campsie and back—a round trip of around 15 miles. Long enough for me to feel the freedom that cycling gives you, but short enough not to cause any discomfort to my now non-saddle-shaped posterior. The Strathkelvin Railway track was re-surfaced last year, and all the raised tree roots no longer lie like sleeping policemen on the surface. It’s a joy to cycle this now (and I’m not a cycle track fan).
  

Just before reaching Clachan of Campsie, thoughts of a latte and flapjack began appearing. With no funds on me, I phoned Mr M and asked if he wanted to come out to join me. Of course, I would have still invited him to join me even if I had my purse with me! What sort of wife do you think I am?

Sadly, the café was closed due to Covid. I set off cycling towards Milton of Campsie, on the road, to flag down Mr M, so we could get our coffee fix at the lovely Fells Café. I think Mr M was rather pleased I’d called him to meet me, enjoying a bacon sandwich and a latte. My treat was a lovely coconut and oat slice with a thick layer of chocolate.

Beatrix hated me going out on my bike because she couldn't go with me. Now, with my fabulous new phone cover, Beatrix can come with me on all my cycles.

I was pleasantly surprised (ok, overjoyed) that the cycle today, with the few little inclines, caused no pain or discomfort to my shoulder. My feet are never sore cycling. Today, I experienced the joy of being outside again with the breeze blowing through my hair and I smiled at Crow Road.

“I’ll be back soon,” I told it.

Now I’m home, my bike is resting until the next trip, and my shoes are clean and shiny again.

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