5k a Day - Isn't Showing Me The Love

My "5k a Day" mantra?  Is backfiring.  Or maybe "misfiring" would be a more accurate description.

Nerve pain buzzing around in an aggressive pattern throughout my shins and calves.  Bottoms of feet feel crampy.  Yes, I was sure "crampy" would come up on spell check, and it did not disappoint.  This is me...rewriting the dictionary since the late 70's.  Miriam Webster?  You're welcome.

When I decided to push through the pain-to-numbness to complete the walk, I wasn't quite halfway through before I traded the typical "heel-toe" walking pattern for the "Mr Heavy Foot (shameless Kids In The Hall reference) shlushy stiff pattern".  Shlushy?  Again, MW...you're welcome.  To make matters worse, my bladder was shouting "release the hounds!"  And then I began to have an audible discussion with ms that went something like this:

me:  "I'm going to finish this walk and I'm going to do it every day.  I'm used to pain.  Remember back in college when I ran several miles in my goalie gear?  And I was in so much pain that my hair hurt?  I finished."
ms, interrupting (hate when it does that):  "mm hmm, and you threw up a minimum of 5x.  Go on."
me:  "remember when I played that game on torn cartilage?  I'm tough if you haven't noticed."
ms:  "this isn't the same kind of pain you used to feel as an athlete.  This is nerve pain, tough girl."
me:  "I've also given birth.  Twice.  And had kidney stones.  Clearly, you underestimate me."
ms:  "I'm about to turn the volume up a bit, meaning you're probably gonna fall.  Consider this a heads up."
me:  "so?  Like that's never happened before.  Try again.  This is me, still walkin'."  :::right foot shlush, left foot shlush:::
ms:  "oh, and you're probably gonna wet yourself."
me:  "rinse and repeat the 'you're gonna fall' discussion, ms.  I have a washing machine for my shorts."
ms:  "nice.  You're all lady."
me:  "always have been;-)"

I made it home by the grace of God and threw myself into the sofa, where I awaited the rush of prickly, stinging pain to replace the numb and tingling electrical short circuitry. 

Confession time.  It was there, on the sofa in fetal position, that I allowed a spirit of sadness, self pity, and fear come over me.  Sadness, because all I wanted to do was get back into some form of shape...trading my sphere in for something more flattering.  Like a cone.  Self pity, because it's times like that when I recall what I used to be.  And I miss my husband, because he's had to take on even more hours to offset those which I've had to cut back on.  I feel like it's all my fault.  Fear, because hey...I was afraid.  "Tina, come on down!  You're the next contestant on The What If Game!"

Later that night, my son and I decided to stay up late (like mother like son) and listen to music.  Typically, we go on youtube, pick random songs, and get shushed by the normal sleepers of the house;-)  He chose one called, "You've Got The Love" by Florence & The Machine.  And, well...I can't stop listening to it.  Impeccable timing, my dear son.  Allow me to share my new walking song with the class:-)

Time to realize Who's really in charge...