An Open Letter to My Body:

January 31, 2010 § 1 Comment

On March 15, it’ll be exactly a year since I broke you a little bit. The two months of limping with a cane, the surgery, the discovery that I’d been limping with a cane on a fracture for all that time, the unexpected months of crutches, the painkillers, the physical therapy twice a day for endless weeks, the scars, the sleepless nights because of the throbbing pain — frankly, overall, the majority of 2009 was difficult, to put it mildly. (Though, truth be told, I don’t mind that I now know that knee surgery is the fastest way to lose 15 lbs. in a week or that limping through into lobby of Hotel Victor with a cane is the best way to get upgraded to a suite.)

I owe you an apology for all of that, and also for this: I kind of gave up on you in September, when I was cleared to stop PT. I think (fine, I know) that the doctors meant for me keep working on your strength and mobility on my own, but I interpreted that as an explicit invitation to read books, watch TV, work endless hours, drink wine, and generally just avoid the gym. I accepted the remaining, slight limp and I accepted having one normal-size leg and one still-kind-of-puny leg.

A year ago, we certainly weren’t candidates for any professional sports team and no one was asking us to strut down any catwalks, but we were strong and fit and it wasn’t a total, total stretch for us to call ourselves an athlete to ourselves, in pretend private conversations. Plus, there was that ONE TIME where that guy said, “Wow, your arms look jacked!” Remember that? Remember that? It was awesome.

Here’s the deal, Body: I’ve had it. We’re going back there.

Yesterday I took you to the gym for the first time in months, and then, after that, the worst possible thing happened, the thing I’ve been fearing forever: We fell. We slipped in some snow, legs all tangled up, landed hard, and it hurt. It hurt a ton, and I sat there almost-in-tears thinking about how I didn’t want to go through all that again, but then our ass got cold from sitting in the snow, so what did we do? We got up. We got up, and we shoveled out the goddamn car.

And that’s when I realized that we had somewhere to go — back to fit. The best defense is a good offense, so we’re going back there, Body. No more limp. I’m packing its bags, and sending it on its way. Left leg and right leg? They’re going to match again. I still don’t know exactly how I’m going to do it, but I am.

You’ve been duly warned.



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