The Difference: Turtle vs. Hare vs. Harr-ie Turtle

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(I walked here, because taking a taxi would hurt more)

I wish I was a hare, but a harr-ie turtle will do. I don’t mean a hairy turtle, because that would just be weird and awkward. Imagine swimming up to the beach and the other turtles all giving you the eye. I’d feel much more secure being a harr-ie turtle. I can’t take judgment from turtles, they’re so cruel.

Having improvements, I wanted to add a plank on to my workout. This would be for core stabilisation, but after much contemplation I realize I wasn’t ready for it. I shouldn’t jump the gun. The nerve pains tell me that I’m still healing, and should focus on balance and mobility if anything. The balance will reinforce and strengthen my nerves, whilst the mobility will help me keep my range of motion to efficiently execute activities with the right form. With that in mind, I’ll continue working on my mobility, balance and walking.

I can walk now, and swim without legs. However, I’m wishing one day I can run fast again and swim with legs too, just like a harr-ie turtle.

How does being a turtle or hare affect your life?

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8 thoughts on “The Difference: Turtle vs. Hare vs. Harr-ie Turtle

    • It’s actually a funny story, because when I first started swimming, I had to learn how to hold my breath. It hurt so much to lift my neck out of the water every time to breath, that I was forced to hold my breath and perform the laps.

      A long time had to pass for me to work up going into the swimming pool. Going into the water was a challenge in itself. I couldn’t bend my body or my legs, so I had to move very precisely and tactically.

      When I was in the water, I even had to spend a long time getting use to the water currents, because that hurt me so bad and also made me sore.

      I spent many months trying to get well in the swimming pool. Most of the year was spent walking back and forth in the pool until I was ready to learn how to move my arms into the breast stroke positions. Learning how to pull after that was another task in itself, but interestingly enough, the breast stroke taught me how to open doors!

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