It’s been a long few months of feeling less than adequate and I finally decided to edge my buns off the 3rd ring of hell. I knew there would be consequences, but I figured I’d at least try. No pain – no gain.
When last I saw my doctor, she suggested I lose weight. When I noted I had just gotten a Pilates machine she did a double take and said “Pilates? I’m talking marathon running.”
Heeding her advice (well, some of her advice) I had Jerry set up the Pilates. If nothing else, it was a good warm-up step prior to my running 180 miles a day. Thankfully, an hour long DVD was included. I started the DVD and began warm ups. Trouble immediately flashed across the TV when the Pilates Instructor on screen appeared for the demonstration. She was 98#’s, her armpits were muscular and I know I saw quarters bouncing off her thighs. I took in a deep breath and started.
When she laid down on the moveable board, her hips had four inches of safety on either side. My fleshy exterior, however, was hanging over and getting rug burns as I moved back and forth. But, I was committed and paid attention and was beginning to get the hang of things.
The moderator then said to change the rope tensions. Intently following the model with rapt attention, she lyrically shared, “Sit on the board – push it back slightly – then change the rope. Now move forward.” I did it exactly the way it was shown.
Obviously, I neglected to allow for the difference in my “cheap machine version” vs a Pilates Pro at ten times my cost. When I pushed the seat forward the top of my knuckles acted like brakes on a free falling elevator. I smashed them into a non-moveable metal item – an item that was bolted to steel.
Am unsure what time I started breathing again. I do remember the DVD was starting lesson two, but my ears were deaf to the sound and the pain from my knuckles was unrelenting.
As I gingerly fell off the machine, my right ring finger had already grown four sizes. It was black, maroon, greenish olive/yellow and a variety of other rainbow hues. I knew it was broke. Since it was the top knuckle at the tip of the finger, I figured it wouldn’t do any good to go to the ER. I couldn’t bend it anyway – why pay the deductible for a tongue depressor and some tape to keep it stationery? I had duct tape and chopsticks in my kitchen cabinet.
This finger is the one I just had surgery on to correct what they called a “trigger finger.” Stupid name since I know how to hold a gun and this was not the “sweet finger” on the trigger. It was also the appendage that is encrusted with arthritis. All in all it’s a daily pleasure to have this part on my body.
I thought about sprinting for the ice tray then rethought that action. Sprinting just didn’t seem worth it. As I headed, slowly, for the kitchen I knew holding an ice cube in my hand was not nearly as beneficial as holding a glass of ice cubes which would certainly cover more area. The addition of some single malt would also be a boon to my attitude.
I have sat for some time now reassessing my move from the rings of hell. Actually, I am reassessing my prescribed weight loss program.
In about ten minutes I will cease reassessing and just enjoy the cooling qualities of iced single malt.
…just my thoughts