Sunday, July 18, 2010


There's a cramp in the palm of my left hand. Been there about two days. No idea why.

There's also a cramp in my left shin. Too much with the "running like a free spirit" on the (teeny) hills of Yosemite, too much with the "I'm totally awesomesauce" running immediately upon my return. Running which came to a screeching halt this week due to the pain I was experiencing. Cramp isn't really even accurate as a descriptor except that it fits my theme here. We're talking more of ripping away from bone kind of shredding feeling. Same kind of thing that happened to me last year when I upped my mileage--it just happened at a greater number of miles this time. Don't worry, I'm icing/resting/stretching and I already feel an improvement. Taking it easy, not being a nerd about pushing myself too hard.

But some major grade A cramping is coming at me courtesy of one angry ute (that's right people, ute--I know male readers will abandon ship here for the night) that has decided inexplicably (but predictably) for five months to increase its cycle length by exactly three days an iteration, and now in July decides to add on an additional ten days to the longest its ever been. What.The.HELL, body? Like being a girl wasn't bad enough, you had to go and make it worse by making this an almost one-for-every-two-normal person-cycle. Ten days worse, to be exact. FIFTY NINE DAMN DAYS? That's not a cycle, it's a joke. (Hopefully all the "normal" 28 days peeps will indulge me in my whining here.)

So I sit around and wait, wondering like some kind of dopey thirteen year old that can't predict her cycle yet. Every day that passes and I don't get my monthly visitor is a day of stress and of not being able to wear white pants (because really, who wants to be looking springy and fun on the day that magical gift arrives?) and I know the added length adds more to the pile of suck that's awaiting me when AF finally does makes an appearance. We all know that a body isn't meant to go that long without some kind of release. Bad, bad, bad times today, like a vice on my midsection. So bad that I didn't move all day, just lots of rolling around in bed, groaning, demanding things from my children and husband. I wish I was a southern belle, because moaning things down the stairs of one's plantation home in a lazy feminine drawl seems somehow more romantic than shouting "c'mere, Roo" from one's foil-windowed track home-bedroom in suburbia.

But one good thing that came out of this cramptastic day was that I finished both books I was reading. I'll post a review tomorrow, hopefully. I wrapped up Julie and Julia and The Art of Racing in the Rain. I enjoyed the latter more than J&J, for reasons I'll discuss tomorrow, but I have to say that even lounging in bed all day with a book that's just so-so is pretty full of awesome. If I let myself think about it, I realize that in less than a month (though I refuse to count down days) I'll be staring down the teeming hordes again. I'd say it was a day well spent, cramps and all. By tonight I was feeling well enough to do such daring activities as shower (gasp!) and sit on the couch, and I managed a walk that made me feel like I wasn't going to calcify into a monument of pain.

I know this is beating the cramp idea to death, but I fear the fact that I'm leaving with the kiddos to spend a week at my in-laws' will put a cramp in my running schedule. Not quite sure how I'm going to deal, but hopefully it's in some manner that involves maintenance in some form of regular running, walking, and healthy eating. I know, high hopes. I have to admit I'm dragging my heels a little bit because after Yosemite came a week-long conference and now this week away from E :( with the kids and I'm just wanting to dig in and enjoy whatever moments of nothing I have left in this summer vacation. Doing something reminds me that I'm not doing nothing and I start to get whiny. I'm sure it will be a perfectly good time. I'm looking forward to relaxed time with E's parents, too.

I have a lot to do tonight: laundry, packing, browsing amazon for new books for my newly "cleared" Kindle. I plan on doing none of this, of course. There's always tomorrow before I go, right?

1 comment:

  1. "I wish I was a southern belle, because moaning things down the stairs of one's plantation home in a lazy feminine drawl seems somehow more romantic than shouting "c'mere, Roo" from one's foil-windowed track home-bedroom in suburbia."

    I just had to pull-quote this. You're so clever.