A couple weeks ago, I was reaching for the kitchen faucet when it suddenly felt like someone was stabbing me in the back, and not metaphorically. The pain was so intense and sudden, it took my breath away, while causing me to be immediately immobile. Taryn was home, so she helped me lay on the living room floor and brought me a tennis ball to attempt to roll over to work on the knot that had formed there. I’m sure I’ve been stabbed in the back before, I just never actually felt it physically. This getting old thing is not for the young. Seriously, I didn’t know it was dangerous to reach for the faucet. I guess I will need someone else in the house to do the dishes from now on…yeah, right.

After two weeks of adjustments and massages (thank you Travis – you’re right, you weren’t getting anything for all that effort), I finally felt close to normal. I, of course, didn’t workout at all during that time. I have come to the realization lately that my at-home workout routine is beginning to lack any workouts. That’s a problem. So, yesterday, I bit the bullet and went to a gym on a free visit. Stupid gyms. Now I will actually have to clean my workout clothes. All during the interval training, I kept thinking, I have to modify this for my knees; I have no idea why my forearm hurts so much, so I better use a lighter weight; the arches of my feet are burning. Why do I sound so old? Given my propensity to talk to myself out loud, it was all I could do to stop myself from muttering my complaints for all those close to me to hear. They might have tossed me out on my achy head. Honestly, I started thinking, at least my shoulders don’t hurt…that could easily be hurting too, given my old injury. Maybe my shoulder didn’t hurt because I was using embarrassingly light weights so I didn’t overwork my tender tendon in my forearm.

So, as we approach another Christmas, I am ordering my old self back. The one that could jaunt out the door on a five mile run after not having run in months. The one that could swim with abandon, play football with my brothers, play Frisbee with anyone, shoot hoops with the neighbors, and best the boys in kick the can. That’s all I want for Christmas. In the meantime, I should probably avoid washing dishes and working out. Those things are dangerous. Today, in addition to all my regular old injuries, I am finding it difficult to descend the stairs or sit down on the toilet, due to the large number of squats that the crazy drill sergeant of an instructor had us doing. And I didn’t even do all of them. I was practically cowering in the back corner. At least I don’t notice my achy knees, arches, and forearms as much with all the new pains.