Shoveling snow is not that big of a deal to me. I actually enjoy the rhythm. Slide the snowshovel under the white mound. Give a pop and lift. Swivel and toss the snow to the side. I love being outside. Working my way from point A to point B and looking over my shoulder and seeing how much I’ve accomplished.

So we got hit with that big storm last week. Snow fell. And then ice. Lots and lots of ice. Thankfully, not freezing rain which meant that we didn’t lose power. But the ice compacted the snow and each day the ice melted and then refroze and turned into slabs.

After a certain point, I knew that I was going to have to dig. My oldest child and I are both employed by education agencies and, with enough time, the snow was going to melt enough that we were going to have to go back to work. So, pull on the coat. Grab the shovels. And dig.

I spent five hours last week stabbing through the ice to break it into floes that I could fling to the side or stack up in mounds. I had a wonderful time. I dug out cars, broke through the ice and found the earth. I touched the frozen side of spring.

But, alas, I hadn’t completely cleared everything. So, three days ago, I decided to do a wee bit more shoveling. And since it was starting to warm up, the snow was easier to chop through.

I know that I moved hundreds of pounds of ice and snow last week. Easily.

But Monday, I had barely tackled maybe a foot worth of snowyice when my back pinged and I stood in the mud and gasped and then panted. I clutched the shovel’s handle and kept trying to tell myself that I could keep going. That I was going to be fine. That I really would be okay. I’d hurt my lumbar before. And with enough tenacity and perseverence I would be fine.

But I’m not fine. I wasn’t fine then. And I’m really not fine now. If anything, right now, my back is just pinging because I didn’t sit down correctly.

But the worst thing is that I can feel everything in my hips. They feel sore. Swollen. Numb. I’m used to my lumbar aching and getting over it fairly quicly. But even with high doses of ibuprofen, I am in pain.

And it makes me feel old.

I don’t like this feeling.

I stretch and try to ease the pain and it helps and then it doesn’t and I just feel old. I want to thrive and look forward to hiking season. But right now, I look forward to my hips not hurting.