5 Centimeters Per Second

Today I got to visit Powell’s, a large bookstore in Portland (if you did not know). I had been excited for quite some time to go there so I could buy some books and kill some gift cards. Instead of taking my wheelchair, I chose to walk, which was not an insignificant choice. I had to envisage myself as strong enough to walk long enough to get everything I wanted; exploration suddenly became very daunting. For the past few months – 11 and a half by my count – I have been struggling with problems of strength. My legs are more incapable of supporting my weight as they have been in the past.

To most people who know me, “the past” is vague and means nothing. For years upon years I had so much trouble telling people that I have Becker’s Muscular Dystrophy, a neuromuscular disorder which pretty much means I have weaker muscles than the normal person. The winter term of my freshman year I went to a dance hosted by the Residence Hall Association of the campus. Over the course of my time there I steadily grew weaker until my legs felt stiff - the classical sign for me to sit down and take a rest – but still I asked my friend to dance. I endured and  veritably enjoyed the dance, even though I had come very close to exceeding my limits. Feeling so exhausted, I had to take a rest. The next day my friend made a joke about me being bad at dancing but she felt very guilty after I told her about my disability. I seem so normal upon first glance.
With this story in mind, one can see that I am not very strong physically, even though seeing me walk would suggest that nothing is wrong. Today I walked to a level that I could earlier. I still had to sit down quite often but I managed okay in the moment. To and fro I walked, exploring my surroundings. In particular, I decided that I had to find and purchase 5 Centimeters Per Second, a manga of a film very important to me. Ultimately I ended up obtaining And Then There Were None by Agatha Christie, two Haruhi light novels, and the first volume of the Oreimo manga; my journey was gifted with physical findings that I could take back with me. I adventured through Powell’s, even though I was concerned about my flagging strength. Sitting down helps me alleviate the fatigue but it builds up much more easily for me than for other people.

I fancy myself strong of mind but I am weak of body.  I walked like a “normal” person while being aware that my strength fluctuates more than a normal person. For someone who now uses a scooter most of the time and a manual wheelchair when I’m with my family, I was pretty freaked out being there, even though I was having a lot of fun looking for things I wanted to buy. I drew from the strength of my mind and did not falter, hoping that in the end I could find everything I wanted. When it came time to leave, I panicked because I was at the back entrance when we had agreed to meet at the front entrance. I ended up, despite feeling weak and sore from so much walking. I went around the building all the way to the front entrance where the car was parked. Feeling anxious and beaten I sat down in the car. Finally, I could just rest and not worry about my seemingly borrowed strength that was disappearing quickly. My mom and sister were annoyed that I had walked all the way to the front entrance, but in the end I had made it.

Strength is such an abstract concept for me because I can easily become near-exhausted. I am strong enough to walk, but my maximum strength is still so little compared to other people. I take pride in my intellect and value it over my physical weakness. At the same time, seeing so many people walking around and checking out books without any problem is very isolating. I am glad, though, that I could truly adventure, a feeling I haven’t gotten in a long time.