As I’ve gotten older, my workout routine has slowed down somewhat. Not only do I have more aches and pains, but I have to say, my stamina is definitely not what it used to be. I get winded just walking up and down my stairs.
I know they say that working out keeps your body younger and healthier…HA. I believe it’s done more damage than good. Of course, in my 20’s, 30’s and 40’s…I absolutely thought that working out was the greatest discovery on earth. But once you hit that half century mark…you’re screwed. The body may still look okay on the outside, but that inner working mechanism is saying uh uh…no way am I running that fast or that far. Running 3 miles every day…yeah…right. Now…speed walking. That’s the way to go. You may look like a dork, but at least your hips aren’t screaming at you to slow the hell down. Of course they are so damaged now that they don’t have the strength to scream anymore. And my knees…I believe I left them behind somewhere in my 40’s. I now have two knobs that attempt to hold up the rest of my body. And not so well. The creaks that emanate from them are mind boggling. People look around and ask me “What was that sound?” “Oh, just my knees settling into their comfort zone. Please excuse them while they find their rocking chair.”
The other day I decided I was going to speed walk to my doctor’s appointment. It’s only about two and a half miles, so I thought…piece of cake. I walk around 2 miles at least 5-6 days a week anyway, so why not. I gave myself just over a half hour to get there since I didn’t have to really worry about hitting traffic. Well…that was stupid. The flow of traffic has more than one definition. It’s not only about cars. It could have to do with the flow of blood through your veins. There just could be a minor traffic jam going through your body, too. Just ask my brain. I believe my brain was telling my blood flow to push harder on the accelerator. Forge ahead!
So there I was, boppin’ to the music on my ipod, wind blowing in my face, sun shining down, enjoying the spring air. Had my new walking shoes on, which are incredible, by the way. I was going to see a new doctor, since my previous one decided, after 14 years, to not take my insurance anymore. [So what else is new?]
I was walking at a pretty good pace, just short of shin splints, when I realized I was going to be late. I didn’t want to make a bad first impression on my new doctor because, as we all know, doctors are always right on time. And oh yeah…they are also god. Why is it that their time seems to be more valuable than our time? It’s ok for them to keep us waiting, but if we are late, we either miss our appointment, or have to wait until they can then slide us in between other patients.
Anyway…as I realized I was going to be late to meet god, I sped up my pace even more. I guess you could call it a slow sprint. Which then turned into a fast sprint, which then turned into a high speed car chase, had I been a car. What was I nuts? Who runs like that unless you’re in the Olympics competing for a gold medal for all the world to see. Maybe 20 people saw me as they zipped by in their cars. I was like lightning. Ok…maybe not lightning…but my body felt like that. Well…maybe it felt more like it was STRUCK by lightning. And every blood vessel in my entire being felt like it was ready to burst. With my head throbbing and my heart pounding out of my chest, I almost ran right into the reception desk because I couldn’t slow down in time.
So there I was, huffing and puffing. I could barely talk. I had to sign in but my hand was shaking so badly she couldn’t read my writing.
“Hi……..I’m…..Jaime………I’m…here…to...see…Dr….God.” I then had to fill out enough forms to fill the Annals of Internal Medicine. I must’ve looked like hell because all the nurses asked if I was ok, and one brought out water to me, while I sat ‘Waiting for Godot’. I was sweaty and beet red, still struggling to breathe when they brought me into the examining room. Good thing I had to wait another 10 minutes. It gave me time to get my composure and my heart rate and blood pressure down, until HE walked in. Of course the most gorgeous man on earth had to be my doctor. There went my ‘resting’ heart rate. I hate having great looking doctors because who wants to have Dr. Gorgeous God examine you and see what’s really under those clothes? I’d rather have him examine me at home, in the dark…with mood lighting, and music playing and…oh, sorry. I tend to get carried away at times with my fantasies. Anyway…looking my best, we had our meeting of the mind and body and all was good. At least I thought all was good.
And then………..I realized………………I still had to get back home.