It all starts out innocuously enough. You ask your dad to a movie. Your dad asks to go shopping. You don’t want to go shopping. So, after you are done working out, you stop at the store to get shopping out of the way–because all he needs is batteries and something else. And on your way into the store, you hit a patch of ice and as you look down at the ground, all you can see is your feet sliding backwards and concrete rising up to your face. And the next thing you know you are laying face down with ice and snow in your face, and your air all gone, and two people are staring at you asking if you are all right.
Well, of course you are. You looked like an ass falling down as you lay there on the ground, and it feels like a truck hit you, but it’s okay, and you get up, and pause…once…or twice…or three times, until you find your way to a cart and shop quickly to get the asinine items and pay for them as fast as you can. But, your body feels uncomfortable enough that you report it because you know it may not be right down the road.
And, it’s not…your body. This machine you got into the habit of running five times a week and now you can’t normally walk around your house without wincing in pain. And you ice. And take ibuprofen. And sit. And as time passes, your body reacts more harshly…your wrist, your shoulder, your elbow, your hip, your knee. And all that habit you created, the rhythmic pounding, the music flowing, the heartbeat beating—that ethos you have built…gone…in the slip on the ice. You feel and get fat.
Three weeks have passed and the doctor told me nothing was broken, but I can’t help feel that something was bent. That’s what happens when the body meets concrete and you’re old, and you’re round. I was just getting into the rhythm and, for whatever reason, it was taken away. I have never felt so lonely. I miss the sound of my feet.
So, after the snow melted away, and then fell again, I find myself walking with extreme caution. I will not ever allow something to casually take away all my power ever again. I made my way to the treadmill today and I walked. I even ran for a few. I probably shouldn’t have. I came home and iced.
I can truly say, I felt free again and I felt good. I hope soon I find myself back to where I was so I can move onward and beyond. I need to find my rhythm again.