Yup… This cowgirl is going on day two of not exercising. It’s amazing how good I feel. I’m getting all healed up. Bruises are losing their vibrancy, joints are less hurty. I felt like I could run today, but I forced my hiney back down into the hot tub for more soaking. Rest through tomorrow, then I can run again. I’m looking forward to it.
I get a little, well, manic when it comes to getting my burn on. On a no exercise day like today it will get to 8:00 at night and all of the sudden I’m either changing into my running gear or I’m reverting back to being eight years old, pouncing on my kids and getting all wild with them right before bed, OR I’m aggressively challenging Bradley to tickle fights, king of the mountain trials and wrestling matches. You think I’m kidding? Talk to the hubs. I have gas in my tank, my babies. I have to move.
Several days of this and I really do remember what it was like to be that crazy kid who could rollerskate for hours then talk a million miles an hour in a made-up language to my BFF while turning cartwheels in the front yard after spending the day swimming and riding my bike around and around the block while singing camp songs at the top of our lungs. Think I’m kidding? Ask anyone I graduated with who lived in my hood. All of my neighbors. They all heard me.
For years I was told to calm down, to settle down, that I was like a fart in a skillet, that I would spin like a top, that I just. Never. Stopped. Miss Wiggle, squirmy wormy, that was me. I eventually ended up doing an excellent job of settling down. But I won’t ever do that again longer than a day or three. All of that energy that was inborn was for a reason- I need to move or I get unhealthy. Now that I have my chutzpah back I’m determined to keep it.
I really pushed myself during the past two weeks. I took that weightloss warrior thing to heart and didn’t take a day of rest for the entire time. This rest is good, but I’m anxious to get back to training. Squirm on, wiggle on, and just. Never. Stop, lady.