I love the smell of Salonpas in the morning

So, in having to accept that I'm not 21 anymore, I have to treat my body with a little more respect.  Apparently bending over is way out of my comfort zone these days.  Literally.  It seems that bending over, twisting, and sleeping on my side, causes my rickety old back to talk to me: "DON'T DO IT" is the usual message.  Well, this doesn't work for me obviously.

Let me be clear, I still do everything I want to do, I just make a bit more noise doing it.  There are the moans and groans of course.  Snap, crackle, pop too.  Then of course that old standby, swearing.  Not that any of these things actually makes me feel better: more of a reflex I suppose.  But I have learned there are a few things I can do to beat back the aches and pains.

I have to stretch as I am getting up which is where the snap, crackle and pop are observed.  You yoga people are saying, so?  Well, I'm not a yoga person and I tend to fly out of bed when the mood, or the bladder strikes me.  When the thought to get up enters my mind, I get up.  Since it has become very clear to me that I can no longer hop, skip and jump first thing in the morning, I now stretch.  Let me define stretching: I slowly move my legs while bending, and or rotating the joints.  Then I sit up.  While sitting up on the side of the bed I do a neck roll which produces an amazing amount of popping.  Then I stand up and reach for the sky, roll my shoulders and do some gently twisting which inevitably makes my right shoulder and back pop.  The sound is similar to the last couple of pops you hear when you are microwaving popcorn...you just wait for them to slow down and you know you are done.

Now throughout the day I do throw in a few stretches as well.  When I pull weeds my back is happy until I try to straighten up.  Then it says, "Whoa little filly!  Slow down."  Why my back is a horse I don't know, but I'm just reporting what happens.  So, I get up slowly and then stretch this way and that until my back stops talking.  Now my back isn't always unhappy. It prefers that I keep in motion however.  It feels best when I am walking.  I'm glad for that, but it feels odd just walking around without a particular goal in mind.  Of course when I'm walking around I see things that I want to do, bend over, and well, you know the rest.

After a full day of creaking, popping and swearing, I take a nice hot shower that is heaven.  I am lucky enough to have a tank less water heater so I do not run out of water.  I actually have to set a timer or I would not get out.  Ever.  Not good for the water allotment, energy bill or my wrinkled skin but oh does it feels good.  After drying off it's time for fuzzy PJ's and slippers, but I must first do a few other things.  It's time for the application of the over the counter lotions and potions.  Sometimes I just go with the odor free varieties: the anti inflammatory cream versus the blue stuff with Emu oil and the like.  Sometimes I go with the heating patches which are fragrance free.  But sometimes these measures just don't do enough. Then it is time for the grandma stuff.  You know what I'm talking about: the treatments that make you smell like your grandma. 

I used to think Bengay was my grandmother's perfume.  Now of course I know differently.  I had no idea until the last couple of years that Bengay wasn't the only choice.  A dear friend introduced me to Salonpas.  It comes in patches of various sizes and now it also comes in foam and spray!  And it all smells like menthol.  Just like grandma's Ben Gay and any other number of lotions and potions.  I don't fully understand the mechanism that makes it fairly efficacious but it saves me from taking pills so I'm good with that. The smell, not so much.  So, I've learned to stop and smell the Salonpas, which makes it possible for me to stop and smell the roses.  Life is good.