Waddle Like a Penguin

ingredients: exaggeration and apparent self-pity

A select few of you may know the semi-glamorous feeling. You were snowboarding. Yesterday. For the first time. Ever. Now, you waddle like a penguin.  Your body has been slammed around, twisted like a loopy pretzel. You aren’t used to pretzelization. But, it’s great – because boarding is great-once you know how-so you’ve been told. You, of course, stank at it – which is why you are so sore. But for now, it’s just glamorous crumbs that you cling to. You were boarding.

It’s those sort of feelings I’m writing about today: seemingly every single muscle in your legs is wound up as tight as a drum, KRANKED UP to double God’s recommended tension.

What did I do?

Run a 50 mile race? Never.
Fall down the stairs? We got carpet.
Did I get hit rescuing a kid from getting run over by a Peterbilt? No.
Was I a little slow getting my penny on the train track? Not this time.
Did I get dinged by a 98mph heater? Not quite.
I played SLO Pitch Baseball. Slooooooo Pitch.

So, did I run into the fence snagging that sure home run in the bottom of the ninth? Nah. Did I take out the 300lb third baseman with a headfirst dive and have him land on top of me? Third base – how do you get there? Get flattened drinking out of the water cooler that slipped off the fence? Gatorade comes in small bottles too.

Can’t you read? I played slo pitch. And apparently my body is getting so old so fast that it now throws a fit at such a seemingly mild sport. Run a bit, sit a bit, throw a bit, swing a bit x4. Waddle.

It’s crazy. It’s weird. Forget the punishment of a day of hockey, a night of soccer, a long bike ride. Baseball’s got this boy licked.

Today’s a gift, your life right now is a gift. Use it. Someday I may blog about how typing puts my fingers on the DL.

And isn’t it crazy how once your body isn’t quite like normal how much you wish for ‘normal’? Even if it’s just a bit of hobbling as a result of fun in the sun, you’re ready for tomorrow, when bending will be a little bit easier. So thank-you Jesus for the health I’ve got today. It’s a gift. Two good legs, 2 good arms, and a debatably half-decent brain. I take them all for granted so often. Tomorrow you might take it away. In fact, there’s millions of people hurting right now, so why my since of entitlement to all you’ve loaned me? I’m blessed. And I simply don’t deserve it.

Signing off,

(old man in training)


Waddle Like a Penguin