For oh maybe the last two months or so, I've been somewhat obsessed with losing my latest round of post-baby weight. Well of course my doctor has told me to take it easy, and everyone around me keeps saying I look great for having had a baby just a few months ago; so basically its vanity. There is this pair of jeans...they are waiting for me to wear them again, (which would actually require losing a lot more than this last baby's weight).
My husband who loves me very much keeps telling me I am beautiful and he loves my body the way it is. Well I don't! I'd like a little more muscle, where my behind and thighs are now building their very own compound. So in order to stop the further encroachment of cellulite upon my nether regions I dedicided I would start excercising. Well not quite, the thought of excercise makes me want to do something else. So I decided to do something fun that would also give me some type of aerobic benefit. Thus the idea to ROLLERBLADE! (Yes laugh hysterically if you want, I deserve it.)
Okay it sounds like a good idea when I first think of it. Time goes by and I don't do it, I don't do anything. But this morning I get up, (I make the decision to "really" do it). I say to my father-in-law "I'm going skating, I'll be back in a bit". First of all, it's 6:30 in the morning (so no one will see me). But except my neighbors are out, aaaggghhh!!!, they see me, we joke about the skates, hahaha jokes on me. I was also thinking fewer cars on the street so early in the morning so this should be safer, because I don't have to navigate the traffic. Well since my neighbors are out, I change my plans (bad idea). I was going to go out my driveway and to the right and Up the Big Hill, then come around the block and down the little hill. (Just FYI, if you haven't skated in 10 years, there is no such thing as a little hill.) Since I have deviated from the master plan, I now go left, around the corner, up the little hill , around the other corner, (where I run into another neighbor - this one taking out his trash), and down the Big Freaking Hill. Oh my goodness that Hill is HUGE!
I feel like I am going down a 95 degree angle at 100 miles per hour. I can hear the wind whistling in my ears, and the sound of my wheels against the asphalt as I careen down the hill to my imminent doom. All I can think is "I don't want to mess the face, must fall on my behind". So I decide to fall to stop myself.
No that was NOT SMART. It was really stupid, especially when you know the fact that I was not wearing any, none, zip, nada, zilch, capute, zero safety gear. Yup stupid, I know. To quote my husband "that wasn't your brightest idea". No *bleep* Sherlock, love you too.
Mind you, I would never send out one of the girls without first making sure they had been covered from head to toe in Kevlar, but I go out with NOTHING. It's like having sex without a condom, and you're not on the pill -You're gonna get pregnant. The Five Year Old wears a helmet, elbow pads, knee pads, wrist guards and I think somthing on her ankles. But me, NOTHING, and of course I pay the price, because as we all know, it only takes ONE time.
So now I have fallen, actually, I slid down the street. I sit up; my head doesn't hurt, that's good. My shoulder is a bit sore, but after a minute I can move it with no problem. My butt hurts, but well I guess it should since I made it take the brunt of my painful blow. However what I didn't expect...aha!...to see "the whitemeat" Immediately an episode of Bernie Mac came to mind. In this particular episode he was talking to some ladies about "beating the kids until the whitemeat show". Well I was seeing my own whitemeat - ouch! And guess where, on my stinking elbow, a place that could easily, and should have been protected. But no, no, I had to live by the stupid "Do As I Say, Not As I Do" rule.
Needless to say, I walked on the grass the rest of the way home. I showered when I got there, BTW that really hurt. Later on The Five Year Old saw my bandage and asked what happened. I was honest and told her my tale. Her response "Oh, I would never go out without my protection, you should have used some."
But no need to worry; I won't be doing that again. I would rather run suicides in 90 degree heat.