I woke up this morning to the sensation of pain in both of my legs. It wasn’t nearly as intense as when I went to bed, but it still hurt regardless. I tried to go back to sleep but instead just laid in bed. I finally propped myself up on the edge of the bed, unplugged my phone and began limping across our apartment to the kitchen to get a glass of water.
Now, this all probably sounds dramatic and, for the most part, it probably is. I doubt that the process was as challenging as I make it out to be. However, at the time, this is how it seemed.
See, here’s the problem. I’m fat. Now, don’t tell my daughter I said that because she gets extremely offended anytime that I suggest that I am anything less than perfect. Thus, the nickname that I have given to myself (Fat Daddy) drives her crazy. Yet, here we are. The pain in my legs is a direct result of the excess body weight that I carry on my frame. I know it. I have documented it. I do very little to change it.
However, last night was different. Some friends of mine from our church came out to our gym and played basketball with Elisa and I and the boys in our care. We played to 50 by ones and twos. The game was full court with a halftime once one of the teams scored 25. Wow, I was exhausted by the end of that game. We lost but I don’t really consider it a loss because I got that cardio in. Hey, you gotta start somewhere right?
I began limping around the court sometime during the second half of the game. I still made it up and down the court but was typically the last person to do so in each possession. By the end of the game, I was struggling to put weight on my left leg. Sitting down after the game probably did not help. The best thing to do was probably to continue to walk on it. However, I sat for probably a half hour and then could not get back up.
One of the boys asked me what I thought might have caused my ankle to be hurt like that. Did I trip? Did I twist it? Did I get crossed over one too many times? So, I told them. When I was a senior in high school, I weighed around 160 pounds and that stayed consistent into my early and even mid-twenties. At some point in my late twenties, my weight began to increase. At this point, I weigh just under 240 pounds and the body reacts differently when you have 80 extra pounds coming down on it.
But, last night was a victory. I worked out and actually enjoyed it. I did something like exercise with other people without feeling like I was being judged (that’s a real problem for me). I’m still limping around a little bit today but I feel great.
We’re going to play again next Thursday and continue our games regularly after that. For me, exercise has to be snuck into my routine. I won’t do it on my own because the will is simply not there. But, the pain is a reminder of why I need it.
Life is Strange. Live it Well.