On Saturday while watching my two older children swing off of the rope swing at the river, I had this giant shove from my inner 12 year old to join in the fun. Right at the point that I should have let go and dropped into the water, my boring 30 year old self reappeared, and had cold feet, literally! Not about the plunge so much as the temperature of the water after my plunge. (I like 87 degree or higher swimming conditions if you please)I "thought" I would just swing back right where I started from all graceful-like, however, the extra 6 inches in length I had over the kiddos did not work out to my advantage no matter how small I tried to scrunch myself. Ending in the removal of skin from my Achilles tendon down to my heal, (say it with me...OUCH) and a ginormous purple bruise on the booty. It didn't hurt much at the time, because the ol' pride took a little bigger hit. However, the next day...I was moving at turtle pace. Those "day-afters" get you every time!
Fast-forward to my lunch hour today. I work out at the gym a couple days a week, and while I knew I couldn't use the treadmill or elliptical because of my current condition, I didn't want to not go, because I'm in a routine I've worked very hard to follow, and I know myself well enough to know if I skipped today, tomorrow would be even easier to skip, and before long, I wouldn't be working out at all. So, I planned on just doing weight training. When I pulled up, I went thru my usual argument in my head, “should I take my purse, or just my cell, surely no one will call, but what if they do, nah, no one will…but...if I leave my purse I need to lock my vehicle...ugh I hate carrying a purse, leave everything out here, and just take my keys”...seriously you need a scrambler to decipher what goes on in my head. In the end I decided leave everything (including my keys, unfortunately) in the vehicle and lock it.
I noticed what I did right away, but there was nothing I could do at that moment, so went on in, and worked out....then gimped to my office about the time I knew my mom would get back to loan me her keys, so that I could jot home and get my spare. And yes, I gimped, painfully. When passing cars drove by, I would smile, wave, and try with all of my might to put weight on my left foot, or I would stop and act like I was looking at something, because I didn’t want passers-by to stop, and ask if I was okay, and then I’d have to go into this huge schpill about the rope swings, locking my keys in my car..Etc, I just didn’t have the energy.
All is well, now, though, I have my spare keys in possession, comfortable flip-flops on my feet, and a sense of humor about the situation!