I was sitting in my desk chair, still in a long white cotton nightgown at 11 o’clock in the morning trying to figure out why I felt so bad. Everything hurt. My feet and ankles were swollen. Even the soles of my feet were swollen. I felt disillusioned and uninspired, but more to the point, I thought there had to be some reason why I was waking up every morning feeling like I’d been beaten by sticks. Especially as when I had been through a really grueling weekend in Louisville, I hadn’t felt nearly so bad.
As it happened the clue to the answer was draped over the back of a kitchen chair, drying. Black tights. Every day in Louisville, (heck, everyday of my life for 9 months of the year generally) I wore black tights. You have to “dress” to show dogs and really the clap-clap-clap sound of your fat bare thighs slapping together does nothing to help present your dog in a favorable light. Since I have to run in the ring, I’ve searched long and hard for tights that don’t slip, slide or fall down. My favorites cost 18 bucks a pair, but they fit, they’re sturdy and they absolutely never fall down.
They are “Assets,” (heh) made in conjunction with Spanx, and all this time they’ve been acting like support hose. When the climate decided to fast forward right past spring into summer this week, I had foolishly jettisoned said tights and gone bare-legged among the masses. No wonder I felt so crummy. So I have shimmied back into my tights and I will probably be the only girl walking around with black legs all summer, but it’s okay. I feel so much better when I’m wearing them. I feel energized. I feel like I have my act together.
When I got on the scale this morning, it had magically returned to Monday’s weight– so my target number is back down to be 71.8. Many friends counseled me not to weigh myself everyday, but the scale giveth and the scale taketh away. I don’t want to wait a week for the updates.
I am already bored with the tread mill (and I am mad at it for giving me a blister on my bare foot.) There’s nothing to look at but a Monty Python poster. The window in that room looks across at the neighbors ten feet away. I am thinking about a little television but that will take some figuring. So today, I took a brave leap and actually went for a walk. In the outdoors.
There’s a wonderful park near my son’s cello instructor. It’s a natural woodland habitat that has been aided and abetted with woodland flowers, stone bridges, bluegill ponds, meadows, and a 500-year-old Sycamore tree. Julian has a lesson for an hour, so my husband and I went and had a ramble around.
It’s much nicer than staring at the Monty Python poster. The treadmill is convenient and it’s a good way to log the steps when you’re pressed for time, but I think I will make an effort to get out in the world more.
Today’s repast: cheddar/jalapeno bagel with a smidge of butter, half a cup of cottage cheese, half an avocado, 1/2 cup blueberries, slice of bread (no butter, it’s such wonderful bread, it doesn’t really need butter) packet of trail mix (nuts and seeds) green salad, sautéed carrots, half an ear of sweet corn, and a 10 oz. New York strip.
5761 steps down and still an hour or two ’till bedtime.