Health and Wellness

     Since I've moved in with my man, we've started a bit of an exercise program. He's the sort that loves working out (though he doesn't usually have the time for it). I, on the other hand, haven't worn tennis shoes since my P.E. class senior year. His goal is that we (I) will eventually be able to jog two full laps around this gorgeous lake/park nearby.

   Right.

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   It's not a secret that I keep from him that I'm not big on athletics. I like walking around our neighborhood and making fun of the houses that were built in the 80's (beige brick and tri levels, every single one of them) and I used to love walking around the lake (until the gnats hatched, now I can't go there without swallowing at least three). I love me some good yoga or pilates, though it's been a while since I've done those too. But I SUCK at anything faster than a walk. My lung capacity is below zip and I run between a mix of Jack Sparrow and a duck. Not that it matters too much, considering that I can't sustain the action for more than twenty feet without having a conniption fit.

   The thing is, I was doing okay until last week. I don't know how, but I managed to toast one of my knees. It hurt like hell to straighten it out and would throb when I walked for too long. I couldn't even make it through the grocery store without wanting to cry. Ergo, Kris called off physical action until I healed. I spent three days last week in bed with a makeshift brace (two wide toothed combs and a scarf). When it came time for my interview, I had to suck up wearing heels and walked like a Chinese woman with bound feet in an effort not to screw my knee up any further. 

    Oddly enough, that was my turning points and now it's doing much better. As you know, Kris works in our hometown on the weekends, and we rode his motorcycle down to save on gas. I thought it would be bad for my knee, but we stopped every half hour to stretch it out and I'm pretty sure it's okay. Phew! Hopefully this week I'll be able to start jogging again. It's funny, I hate myself while I'm doing it (I can't stand being sweaty and out of breath), but I love knowing that I'm actually doing something good for myself. I never would have had the motivation to do anything like this without Kris and I'm glad he's willing to push me.

    Now if I could only get him to stop laughing at me when my lungs start collapsing...

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