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April 23rd, 2019

4/23/2019

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So, these are my feet.  Well, I suppose technically these are my shoes with my feet in them.  You don't want to see my feet.  They are about as ugly as any feet can get and honestly most feet aren't all that pretty to begin with.  As body parts go, the only thing uglier, are elbows. I've never seen a pretty elbow.  Just my opinion. Yes I understand.  I'm sure there are folks who rhapsodize about the gorgeousness of elbows. Not my thing.

Anyway, feet. My feet in particular.  They are extremely useful.   I can walk a very long way, thanks to these footsies.  If I had a mountain to climb, I could do that too.  As it is, occasionally circumstances require that I climb a ladder and that is as high as I'm required to climb anymore.  It's ok.  My feet allow it.

Luckily for me, because feet aren't extremely huge, they fit nicely in my mouth when I say something insufferably stupid.  When I was in high school, I remember someone saying, upon observing someone else saying something unbelievably insensitive and ill-timed, "Open Mouth, Insert Foot, Chew Vigorously".  I thought that was brilliant.  Wish I could  knew who originally said it because it comes to my mind often.  I always try to think before speaking, but every once in awhile, words just sneak out of my mouth before my brain has fully engaged.  I always regret those words.

I suppose if necessary, with these feet I could kick the butt of anyone in need of a good butt-kicking.  But as it is, usually, I am the one in need. And while it is difficult to kick ones self in ones behind, it is possible.  I know because I have done it.  Sometimes, it's necessary.

There was a part of my life, a very long time ago now, when I was a runner.  I ran every day.  It turned out that I could run a good distance.  That I enjoyed it.  It cleared my head. It calmed me down.  And when I was angry or frustrated I could just run it off.  There comes a point in running where the body is sort of a perpetual motion machine.  Once I set the body to "Run" mode, I could click that part off, just let go of everything else, and do anything  I want in my head.  I could solve problems, write music, finish a chapter in a story I was writing, or just listen to quiet.  And all the while, my body would keep moving forward.  And a lot of that, is thanks to my feet.  Pickin' 'em up and puttin' 'em down over and over and over.  It was all very Zen.

Well these days, me feet are perfectly willing to keep running but my knees disagree with the idea.  Vehemently. So now, mostly, I have settled on walking.  Walking is good.  Occasionally, I'll get a wild hair and break into a run for a short distance and then chortle to myself with glee remembering the good old, bad old running days as I gasp for air and my knees cuss at me.  

This all comes up because today, for the first time in a month, I will be going to Pilates Class again. My instructor (and friend) has been away.  I'm so glad she is back.  And I know that in a few weeks I will be equally glad to be doing Pilates again twice a week.  But for today, I am just grateful that muscle memory is a real thing because I already know that the only reason I'll be able to walk back home is that my feet remember how to do it.  The rest of my body will be quivering jello.

Why didn't I just keep doing Pilates while she was away, you ask?  Well here is the very funny part.  I actually did!  At least three times every week, I threw my body on the floor and worked out.  I did everything I could remember.   But sadly, I didn't do it hard enough or long enough.  I get so distracted at home. 

There I am, on the floor, belly down, hands placed perfectly, ready to plank.  Up and hold, down, up and hold, down, oh dang, look at those dust bunnies under the TV cabinet.  Up I jump to get the necessary equipment to take care of that. I drag out the vacuum, put on the long extender thing and vacuum the dust bunnies from under the cabinet. But hey while I'm vaccuming under things, I may as well do under the sofa.  And then the ottoman.  And then the side tables.  Oh hey, if I move the piano I can do back there.  And I have the extender wand on so I should do the blinds and once the family room is done, I move into the next room and the next and the next until all of the house is dust bunny free and I have completely forgotten what I was doing before this started.  Yeah.  It happens.

So while I'm looking forward to getting back into the Pilates groove and I know my body will be very happy a couple of weeks from now, at this particular moment in time, I am merely grateful for my hard working feet that will not only get me to class and through class, but safely back home as well.

Thanks feet!  
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    Yup, this is me. Some people said, "Sam, you should write a Blog".   "Well, there's a thought", I thought to myself. And so here it is.

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