In late 2000 I had vowed to get in shape but my bowels, were irritable. Whereas only a year earlier I was sprinting amongst the cabs on 6th ave., Crohn’s had sprinted into my intestines and I couldn’t run-free without free-bathrooms close by. After a particularly unplesant jog where endorphins weren’t the only thing released, I hung up my running shoes and admitted defeat.
But man did I need to work out. Supermodel-thin and just as languid I decided that If I was ever going to get ripped I had to have a safe space to get ripped in. Drawing upon years of movement training I devised a workout I could do in my bedroom – a hybrid of stretching, rave dancing and shadow-boxing I called Tie-Ben. Locking myself in my room clad only in workout-shorts and a smile, I’d light inscence and play thumping electronic music as I lunged and liquid-danced my way to fitness. Although my roomates weren’t too fond of the stomping and caveman smell, I was always close to my bathroom and it’s hard to make excuses about not going to the gym when you live in it. Over the years the workout evolved into a full on training regime, and once I got over how weird the whole thing must look, it has became a special and important part of my life.
And that’s the lesson for today – you can never let Crohn’s dictate your agenda. No matter how bad your disease may get there are a million ways for you to work around it and nothing is more important than your dreams. Remember, where there’s a will there’s a way, even if the way is through the bathroom.