As summer winds down, changes have been slowly settling in for me. As a family, we’ve been trying to enjoy the warm days outdoors. Recently we found ourselves at a state park with a fishing pond and large, lush-grassy area perfect for gymnastics. (Because hard as we try, we just don’t have “lush-grassy areas” at our house.)
So my 9 year old was playing one of the things she loves to play best: gymnastics, on that inviting lawn. Overcome by a spirit of whimsy, I felt the need to join her… and spontaneously launched into a cartwheel.
A little background. I used to be able to do cartwheels effortlessly. But it’s been a long, long time since I tried to engage in one, and I have a bad hip from a horse injury long ago. So although I executed my cartwheel nearly flawlessly… it almost killed me. To the tune of a sharp burst of pain in my leg and hip, and a sickening “POP!!” sound. Holy painful, Batman!
Subsequent googling on my phone came up with a diagnosis that matched perfectly, and made sense: hip strain. Which basically means I pulled a muscle. Bad. Dang, it hurt! I seriously could barely walk. This happened on a Saturday. The Saturday before I was supposed to start a new job.
I reeealllly didn’t want to come in to my new place of employment with a severe limp, and an embarrassing story to support it. They’ll have plenty of time to learn about my childish ways at a gradual pace. Let’s not rush in to the awkward over-shares.
So I iced my hip and leg, and stayed off my feet for all 3 days up until my new job started. My first day arrived, and I was able to mask my injury fairly well. I couldn’t walk fast without pain, and the limp showing up again. Although at 5’10” I’m typically the one with the long stride, I had trouble keeping up with my short little boss as we took an introductory tour around the somewhat large campus.
But I’ll survive. I will survive! At least I didn’t BREAK my hip. Eeesh.
How tragic that knowing how to do something in your past, and still knowing how to do it in your head, do not necessarily translate to your current body being able to execute it. Although now that I’ve had a couple of weeks to heal, I don’t believe I’m going to go down without a Cartwheel Fight! Just not ready to cash that chip in. Next time I’ll just do a couple of stretches first, right?
Then there’s my new job. Although this was a change I desired and chose for myself, it has brought with it a whoooole different atmosphere than I was accustomed to. I now work at a university. The energy of college kids swirling around is fantastic, but alas… I feel as if this has rained down an “ice-bucket-challenge” style dose of cruel reality on me.
As a busy mom who works full time, with limited circumstances to exercise, one thing I’m most excited about is that I can now use the university’s huge recreation center to work out during my lunch break. My first week, I headed over for a personal tour of the facility. Delivered by a 19 year old. And riddled with numerous “Maam”s.
Now this probably is one of those girl things that guys don’t get, but I hate being called “maam”. It makes me feel incredibly old. Well, as old as I am. Which I don’t appreciate being made to feel.
So I’ve gone from working at a place where 70+ yr olds wandered the halls freely, calling me “kid” and speaking fondly of their great-grandchildren… to mingling with a bunch of kids (who let’s face it, could be MY kids) calling me “maam”.
It will take a little adjustment on my part, this cold cruel dose of reality. But life means change, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
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