Boot Camp

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Another day wiped out.

Swimming was tough. Pulled up with a cramp in my calf the size of a golf ball. Just too much after the gym. One woman approached me as I clung to the side, massaging my leg – alles goed? Ja, I replied without even thinking that I was speaking in Dutch. From there we proceeded to talk for 10 minutes, back and forth, in English when I didn’t know the Dutch. Rolled out my new words – lidmaat and lidmaatschap (member and membership) – when I spoke about the gym. Handy to have new Dutch words to go along with my new activity. Makes it easy to incorporate the words into my vocabulary.

Came home and almost died. Ended up sleeping in my chair for an hour, completely exhausted. Then I had to eat because I’d used everything up. Spent the afternoon in a haze that only the pain in my biceps could cut through (ow). Ten hours solid sleep last night, and I’m still a little wobbly today.

My brother is encouraging me in this exercise regime. He’s very serious about buying me a bike next year. I’m a bit anxious about that for a lot of reasons. Like, it’s got to be a three wheeler because I can’t ride a regular bike well and if I fall I’m fucked. But I’m a little ashamed (okay, a LOT ashamed) of having to ride a three wheeler. So I want it, but I don’t. I think it would be fun to get on a real bike and make my way around the city, around the parks, around all the areas I can’t get to right now because they’re too far to reach by foot alone. But once again, something I could use ends up being expensive. A three wheeler is bloody three times the price of a regular bike. Argh! Bad enough I’ll go through heebie-jeebies once in a while just riding it because I’ll be afraid I look the fool. Then you got to add in the factor that my bro will pay a LOT for me to ride it and look the fool, so I’ll feel obligated to ride it and look the fool often.

Oh, I hope I’m not as embarrassed about it as I fear I will be!

Realized something yesterday. My legs are rather long. I carry my extra weight around my thighs and butt, so I generally see myself as wide and rather squatty. But my torso is the short part of me, not my legs. I guess I have been dropping weight; how else could I have realized this earth shattering fact after only 50 years in this body? One tiny shift of perception and I went from wide and squatty to long with some extra weight around the middle.

Sometimes walking around in a partial haze is a good thing. For instance, this morning I had occasion to post an article to Facebook. That led me to the actual site so I could log out. And there sat my uncle’s comment, waiting to be answered. I clicked it, typed, and posted,

“I find it difficult to believe that an admitted sexual predator and obvious chauvinist WOULDN’T enact laws that affect my body. After all, to Trump, I’m just a pussy to grab.”

That is not something I’d normally write to my uncle. It IS, however, what I think. This morning I guess I was just punch-drunk enough to put it up. There ya go, uncle. My full honesty. Like it? Wanna ask another question?

Go on and poke the bear again.

I expect today to be topsy-turvy. Still haven’t heard from the theatre group. I imagine my day going something like this: breakfast and shower, dishes, head to physio. Pull my head together, pack a bag, head off to the language café. Discover while at the language café that yes, the theatre group will meet tonight and I’m more than welcome. Grab a cold sandwich dinner at the Uni, get about four tokes on a J, then head in to socialize with the group. Find the director, stumble my way through explaining about the script, and finally hand it off to someone. Laugh. Enjoy. Over think. Come back late on the metro and set my alarm for class in the morning. Toss and turn. At last, sleep.

Now, since I’ve put that out there, I’m certain I’ll get something else thrown back at me.

Fun, fun.

I’ll admit to having some pretty wild sexual fantasies lately, all involving my very cute physiotherapist. He’s a nice fantasy to have! Safe. Just something I think about now and then. Something that makes me feel alluring and desirable. A friend suggested I hint around to see if there’s something there. Part of me has actually been thinking I should try that. The other part (the part that’s winning so far) is terrified of doing that and coming off as one of those aging women who delude themselves into thinking they’re still desirable to younger men even tho the guy they’re fixated on isn’t interested. *shudder* Goddess, save me from that fate! No, my very cute physiotherapist has to be a bit more upfront and obvious for me to take a risk like that. In the meantime, imagining some kissing and touching – even some fucking – is a safe going-to-sleep activity.

Takes my mind off the boot camp I’m putting myself through. And make no mistake about it: this IS boot camp. Body, mind, and spirit. I’m asking myself to go further than I think I can and do more than I know I’m capable of. I’m testing my limits, finding where I’m at, and working at strengthening myself. I know it’s gonna hurt. I know it’s gonna be hard. It already does hurt, and it already is hard.

Thank Goddess I’m a bit of a masochist. Gotta love boot camp.

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