Today is the first day my thighs are pain free.
Last week, it seemed as if everyone and their dog wanted a piece of me, with irritating fools & obnoxious oafs harassing me from all sides. All this PLUS the added frustration of students in final exam mode, salivating for the freedom of summer. All of this while I'm fretting over what could be a disastrous federal election.
Then, I contracted bronchitis (which I recommend you avoid). This had the affect of making breathing difficult AND making me into a giant red ant, filled with anger and frustration at my body's quite shocking decision to shut down and expell icky green ickyness with every hacking cough.
(Is ickyness a word? To hell with it...it's my blog!)
In the midst of all this tribulation, I realize there's a school athletic banquet I have to attend. A banquet at which I have to give a speech or two.
So I go, and once again, we play Name That Tune using TV themes -- it's something of a banquet tradition. Because of my geeky brilliance (no false modesty here), my table does well, so I am called up to participate in a playoff of some sort. Dreading what was about to happen, I made my way to the front of the gym...
RUNNING! There will be RUNNING in this playoff!
Let's refresh ourselves at this point: I have bronchitis, I'm tired, I'm irritated, and I haven't run the way they want me to run since I was in elementary school. There is a reason why my cardio at the gym consists of LOW IMPACT exercises!
Hmm...since I have no other choice, I participate. I end up winning -- albeit in a strange, half-arsed fashion -- and manage to sit down. Only later am I told that I bodychecked a fellow teacher out of the way as I ran this ridiculous TV theme tune race. What can I say: in the words of my sister, I'm a beast. I didn't even feel him being pushed aside like some scrawny Junior-B hockey player.
The next day, my legs don't respond to standard mental commands. It probably has something to do with the fact that both of my thighs have what amounts to permanent charley horses!
To be more precise, my brain would say "move left leg"...and my nerve endings would send back a response saying "IT BURNS! IT BURNS!"
But now it's Monday morning, and most of the pain is gone, thanks to four hot baths, a ton of Rub A535, and two trips to the gym where I gently but firmly FORCED my legs to do some work. It would seem that I successfully purged all the lactic acid from below my waist.
If only there was a rub down cream to purge myself of idiots, fools, and right-wing politicians...
