I'm Obviously Too Old For This


Oh the pressure of seeing the end of the deployment tunnel!

I still have a few months until Air Force Guy is home for good (or rather, what passes for "for good" in our world. Probably about three months) and the workouts have been going great. I've managed to hit the gym 6 days a week, I've watched my diet pretty well with one brief foray into Haagen Daz (and that temptation they hit me with was TOTALLY not fair!). And I think I'm doing pretty well!

Or rather, I was doing pretty well...

I'm openly admitted to being accident prone. I get into a lot of humiliating situations, and I tend to stress and strain odd parts of my body. I'm not sure how it happens, but it does. I think it's because I'm old.

Anyway, I worked through the debilitating butt injury - since that one only acted up when I ran or did step ups it didn't put too much of a wrench in my workout plans. I also work through the back-aches I get on a regular basis. *Ahem*. Lots of yoga helps the back.

But I think I may have outsmarted myself with the latest injury.

A few weeks ago I kicked the heavy bag wrong during a kickboxing class. In fact, I kicked it so wrong that I had to stop class and sit out with some ice on my ankle/foot. The instructor knows that I'm not one to sit out of class (I practice the "Suck it Up" school of sports pain management), and was concerned but not overly so. After all, I *know* how to kick the stupid bag! I couldn't have messed it up too terribly, right?

Um, wrong. I had my ankle looked at and apparently injured my foot right next to my ankle, which isn't a normal place to get an injury. The person who looked at it was quite perplexed at how I could have injured myself there, "I think you might be doing it wrong," she said.


But a few days later it did start feeling better. I didn't need the brace anymore for boxing class, and I stuck to knees and kicking with my other leg in kickboxing. I thought I was fine. Great, actually. Doing well enough to wear a new outfit with my favorite pair of heels to the MOAA Spouse Symposium.

BAD IDEA, airforcewife! BAD IDEA!

And even worse? Andi and She of the Sea were also at the Symposium and they told me over and over again that I should borrow a pair of non-heeled shoes. I mean, they really kept on me about the subject.

But I thought I knew what I was doing, I would be barefoot unless outside, and everything would be okay. Because I'm so smart and all. And I know my body that well, and I can embrace the suck like the best of them.

I'm apparently nowhere near as smart as I think I am. The day after the MOAA Symposium I was hobbling around like Quasimodo. I had to buy an even stronger ankle brace (to keep me from bending my foot), and my foot was so swollen that my tennis shoe was stretched nearly to the point of no return. I hit a late boxing class on Friday and my coach was so displeased with my silliness that he tormented me with rounds of push ups and arm circles. Oh, and have you ever done jumping jacks with all your weight on only one leg? It was really not cool.

Worst of all, I was frustrated beyond belief with myself and the fact that my workouts were going to have to ratchet down the intensity for a few days/weeks while my foot healed.

Because I have a deadline, people! AFG will be coming home and I need to pare down some more before he gets here! And how the heck am I going to do THAT if my body is not cooperating!


I'm going to go out on a limb here and say I'm probably not very unusual in this. It's a military spouse thing - we've got stuff to do, a deadline to get it done within, and we just don't have time for something that comes along and screws up our carefully laid plans! And I can't be the only one who gets grumpy when that happens. Very grumpy.

Unfortunately, the lesson I learned this week was that if I ignore the wrench in the works and continue on like nothing happened, it just causes the wrench to get stuck that much further and make that much more of a dent in my plans.

Ugh. Okay, Karma, I get it. No more kickboxing for awhile. And no more heels (*sob*). But, Karma, can you cut me a break on the food cravings, at least? Also, a clean bathroom would be nice.

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