OMG, y’all. I am so dumb.
I wasn’t dumb with intent, but, yet, here I am.
Since’s Husband’s surgery, there has been a carpool to physical therapy. I’ve been going three times a week for a few months in the hopes of keeping certain things at bay, but he has to go so, um, he can learn to use his bionic knee.
I have been killing it. Not a lot of pain, muscles showing up again, advancing onto certain new exercises, and looking almost bikini-ready… yes, that’s my definition of killing it right now. I was looking and feeling good.
Monday I finished my workout before Husband did, so I hung out talking to the myriad of athletes hanging around in the room talking about the STUNNING loss by Mizzou against South Carolina. After getting a little restless because I didn’t have anything to do, I grabbed a big yoga ball to do a few things I had forgotten in my workout. No biggee.
But I still had more time. Remembering some of the things I USED to do on said ball back when I was on top of my game, I thought I’d try a few things to see how it felt. Turns out it felt great, so I did a bit more.
See, when you don’t trust your body, and get moments of actual responsiveness from it that go well, you want to do more, to push yourself. It feels good.
UNTIL THE NEXT DAY WHEN IT DOESN’T.
Until the next day when your muscles are yelling at you for doing these things and the devil on your shoulder is mocking you for being unsupervised. (You should never be unsupervised. You cannot be trusted, clearly.)
Until the next night when you are explaining to your seven-year-old that you hurt because you made some bad choices the day before and, yes, son, EVEN ADULTS GET CONSEQUENCES because sometimes Mommy is catastrophically DUMB.
But, as miserable as this feels, I am still thankful for what the pain means. Thanks to a neurologist discussion, I know my nerves are fine. I know this pain is only muscular/skeletal. I know that in a day or so it will be better if I treat myself kindly and don’t do more dumb stuff. I know that I pushed myself waaaaay too far, but I only walked away with some pain, not an injury.
But, I also know that as soon as I tell my physical therapist about this tomorrow, she’s going to kill me – and never leave me unsupervised again.