Last Saturday I went to Zumba with Jen. She is my sister and she was in town to visit and it was awesome. Sprinkles was patroned; cupcakes eaten.
When I woke up on Sunday morning I did the normal all-over morning exam (can I move? Can I breathe? Am I alive? Did a meteor crash into earth overnight?) and I felt fine; no Zumba soreness yet. But then my feet hit the floor and both my calves went all Saw IV on me. It felt like Dolvett had forced me to do one too many minutes on that stair climber stepper machine at a last chance workout. (If you don't get my Biggest Loser references, first answer WHY NOT, and then, accept my apologies.)
Anyway, they done hurt, ok? And I had to endure three days of walking not so much like an Egyptian as like a weirdly uncoordinated robot that still can eat human food, because I had a lot of pizza on Sunday given the Super Bowl.
I totally have a point here, so stop freaking out.
My point is that my calves were ruling me for three days. They hurt BADLY and made walking very awkward and painful, especially in heels, which are the only type of shoes I have conducive to my work wardrobe, which you can thank my stature for but really its less about stature than it is about an unwillingness to shop in the "short" pants section and/or hem my clothes. BUT, I remember thinking "oh my goodness. When will this stop. I cannot imagine walking normally. I forget what that feels like."
Then, on Wednesday, I woke up, got to work, put on my Grooveshark playlist that's been a bit Azure Ray heavy lately, ate my peanut butter and jelly sandwich, went to the post office at lunch, then HOLY CRAP I JUST REALIZED MY CALVES DON'T HURT ANYMORE.
It felt really profound, so it should for you too and not just because you have finally gotten to "the point" of this blog entry, hee hee ho ho. I just felt dumb that I had forgotten that quickly. It felt inescapable and never ending when I was in the thick of it. And then it was gone and I forgot.
It's good to know that really terrible stuff that feels overwhelming can turn into a forgotten blink of an eye by Wednesday. But it's not so good to realize that really great, incredible, undeserved things can be just as forgotten.
I woke up this morning and my first thought was, dude, my shower gets so freaking hot and I love it. I have a ton to be thankful for. I didn't even mean to think that. It is very contrary from my usual first thought in the morning, being that which is usually related to 'what did the scale say' and 'why didn't I brush my teeth last night after eating those onions.' So it felt good to think it. And I want to try to remember more. You should too. We all should, and then we should remember to thank each other for it. Oh my gosh I think I just started a Twitter trending topic.
My point is, don't forget to be thankful that your calves don't hurt, and anything else. Remembering is discipline, and holy, and life-giving.