I like to move it

I like to move it

And I’m also a child of the 80’s. So my usual jam will be some version of late 80's / early 90's pop.

iTunes on, and I’m strong as an ox, away I go.

Pump up my (the) jam - oh the bad music quips are endless!

Anyway back to topic

travelling commuting moving

The odds are definitely against us. If you’re in a remission phase and are active and mobile, let’s face it, you’re still fairly uncoordinated. With your two left feet getting tired and your shaking muscles being a part of every day life, we don’t need to be able to bench press 50kg. We just need to be able to move around any city to get from a to b, without having to take the next day off work due to fatigue. So let’s get smart.

Locally

Ladies, if your handbag doesn’t have a cross body strap on it - forget about it. Fellas, same thing get a shoulder bag man. Hip as.

Also be wary, leather handbags are about 5kgs empty. That’s a lot for one little arm! But, I know myself, all my handbags are leather except my gym bag (neoprene). So if you’re a leather nut like me, let your shoulders and back help out. I have only recently realised most of my bags actually have a detachable strap. So I’ve clipped the straps back on to them. Winning!

Secondly, plan your trip. If it’s a big day, work out where you can cheat with Uber’s. Or, if you live in a big city and train-links are more reliable - find the elevators on the platforms. If it’s a new place that you’re not familiar with - look out for someone with a pram and follow them. They will be on their way to the elevator. So use them! Save those legs for pounding the pavement or when there is no other option but your own shaky pea sticks.

Third, don’t be afraid of strangers. I’m a pretty scrappy physique, but i also have an impressive body weight to strength ratio going on. But, because Australians are typically friendly, and although I talk it up, I carry a lot of crap so my luggage is heavy. Red faced and blustering I am frequently helped out by random passers by. I’m not too proud to let people help me. Reason being, often there isn’t anyone around and there is 50 flights of stairs up - and no elevator. And your suitcase weighs 25kgs. So you keep your pride and sense of self reliance for those moments. When a nice ground staff chap or terminal worker take your bag and walks up the stairs with you at a crowded set of stairs - let them. Also, stranger detect. A guy about my age and his lady friend/ partner/ wife just last week asked me so politely (probably scared I’d pepper spray him otherwise) “hello there, would you let me help you”?

Shit yeah I’m pretty sure I said… his lady friend and I then chatted as he lugged my suitcase up the millions of stairs.

The world needs more of these guys. Thank you random man and nice lady.

Lastly, know your Red Zone. When I’ve been at Bunnings with my husband for about an hour, I take a coffee break. I sit down, try to be grateful for all we have and what little odd job he wants to do for the house. I try so hard to hold on to this situation from a global perspective point of view and try very hard to feel lucky.

This is pretty short lived though I have to say, and approximately 15-30 minutes after that, yellow carded. This means he has 10 minutes to get what he wants to buy, have made it through the register and out to the car, otherwise I’ll have a full body tantrum in the isle and demand to go home and / or take the car keys and leave him there until closing. Fact. In other scenarios, I’ll drop the old “10 minutes” phrase. Immediately after I’ve said this my husband looks at me terrified - do you need to sit down? Do you need some food? A coffee? And then we enter in to a long discussion about what to do. Invariably what transpires is I get a snack and we sit down somewhere, and then we crack on with whatever we were doing.

Overseas

My husband and I travel a lot, we live in australia so like all of us here, use planes all the time to see family and go for holidays. My favourite attribute of long haul flights is legitimately being ok to wear pyjamas for three days. My first recommendation for overseas travel, is get a really good collection of ‘fancy tack pants’. So trackpants you’d be ok to wear in the airline lounge, or walk around high st (we stay near Kenginston when visiting family in the UK so wander around during London day time to beat the jet lag once we’ve been spat out the other end at Heathrow). Fancy trackies, slides or mules (don’t forget about cankles (fat ankles) from the altitude, so loafers are not ideal) and a big jacket. Also, a hat. With MS drugs we’ve got to be careful of that sun! Increases our risk of skin cancer so make sure you whack on a hat whilst travelling (plus your unwashed hair and oily roots are hidden away - where they should be!) You’re good for three days in and out of airports, lounges, high streets, even restaurants etc. Sorted.

And then my other travel friend: Wheels. All your travel bags have to have wheels. I’ve gotten pretty good at wheeling my big suitcase and cabin bag together, and my handbag hangs over the handle of my big suitcase. Like a boss. Telescopic are the best as I have accidentally wiped out crowds of people misjudging the drag distance behind me, that my wheely case creates. It’s like you’re towing a trailer so you have to remember to judge space in crowds as such. And I frequently forget. Plus I’m unco. So invest in telescopic and then you don’t have to worry. Or, do what I do and literally create a path of destruction behind you from knocking people over as you meander through crowds. Awkward.

Be smart, accept help, and have a great trip!!