I just got up from the sofa and almost fell over as my leg muscles staged a revolt against my bladder’s need for relief.
Not only did I pull muscles I didn’t know I have while attempting the extreme sport of shaving my legs three days ago, I also went on two hikes this weekend.
Let me clarify. To my companions, my definition of “hike” would be a short jaunt up and down a vaguely graded trail. My companions are athletic. They like to challenge their bodies.
To me, the walks we took up the mountain were painful, kin to insanity. That baby in my belly has stretched ligaments and caused my back to ache. The poor judgement of trying to remove hair from my legs has a lasting unpleasant effect (and I’m not sure anyone really, truly cares if I have hair on my legs anyway!).
During one of the hikes I maneuvered myself to a rock and told my friends to go on without me. They weren’t thrilled about that, but were more interested in seeing what was beyond the bend than hanging out on a rock with an out-of-shape pregnant lady.
If I were a triathelete, I would feel the same way. There is no condemnation in that statement!
One friend stayed behind to hang out with me, but left for a while to take pictures. I kept my posterior planted on granite.
As I sat on my rock, analyzing the slow evacuation of all feeling from my rumpus, a chipmunk hopped up the trail.
What was a small (but intimidating) incline to me had to be a sheer mountain from the chipmunks perspective.
Do you know what that chipmunk did? It bounded up the hill. No pause, no complaining, and with a speed and jauntiness to its step I found quite offensive.
That dang chipmunk was mocking my pregnant self with it’s ridiculous energy and absence of need to shave its legs.
I’m still mad at that chipmunk.
The resulting pure shame motivated me to get up from my rock and meander back up the trail. Admittedly, that 100 feet of steepness gave my calves a run for their money.
All the while the chipmunk sat at the top of the trail and waved its saucy tail at me.
My. What I could have done to that rodent if I only had a BB gun.
One shaving experience, two hikes and three days later, I’m still having trouble moving fluidly.
That’s just not right.
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