Tortoise And The Hare

Do you ever feel like you need a good fable to get you through the day? Hmmm. Me, neither. But I’m sure there is a good “moral of the story” somewhere in here.

Last night I went to Mark’s volleyball game with him. I’m not sure why I torment myself like this, but I’m so tired of sitting home alone while he carries on with his life so I thought it’d do me some good to get out of the house. He plays at the local Y and there is a walking track next to the volleyball courts. I figured that I could go walk while he played. Don’t worry, I know that I am still on major restrictions and I completely took that into consideration when I decided to go walk. I began walking laps (each lap is 1/16 of a mile). Very slow, tedious laps. But I was behaving myself. I was strolling. And let me tell you, it is difficult for me to stroll. I’m one of those fast walkers. When Mark used to go with me as I’d walk for my workout it was easier for him to jog alongside me than it was for him to walk at my pace. So trust me when I say I can walk at a pretty good clip. That clip is not appropriate for healing, so I strolled.

There were runners on the track. They passed me. Duh. There were walkers on the track. They passed me. OK. Not too much of a problem. There were fat people on the track. They passed me. There were OLD PEOPLE on the track. They passed me. My brain and my emotions were having a major battle. This was not OK. I am the one who passes people while walking on the track! I am not the one who gets lapped. Multiple times. By people who should never, in this universe and time/space continuum, pass me. My brain would try to calm my emotions down and spent an inordinant amount of time talking my emotions off the ledge. “This stroll that you’re doing is good. It is going to help you heal. Don’t think about the people who are passing you.” My poor brain was exhausted after walking for half an hour trying to keep my emotions from carrying me off.

After half hour, even though I still felt good walking, my brain said it was time to stop. So I went and watched Mark play. This was not a good idea. It’s one thing to keep my emotions under control when I’m walking. But to sit on the sidelines at a volleyball game was just about too much. Mark is playing with Matt and his SO. They (Matt and Janel) put a team together in one of the lower leagues because they’re both kind of newbies to the sport. So it’s a pretty slow paced game. Mark had shoulder surgery a year ago and he’s just getting back into the volleyball thing and I’ve been concerned that he’ll overdo it because I don’t think his brain is as rational as mine when it comes to recuperating and following doctor’s orders. I was happy that he was going to get back into the game in the lower league where there is much less risk of injury.

However, as I sat there watching this slow paced match, I wanted to get on the court so badly! One of the girls on Matt’s team didn’t show up and they were playing with five people. They needed a girl to be playing!!!!! I’m a girl. I know what I’m doing. It’s a slow paced game. What could it hurt, right? Oh, the agony to sit on the sidelines and watch them play short handed. It nearly killed me!!!!!!

Last weekend Mark played in our traditional Superbowl volleyball tournament. It’s the tournament that we’ve been playing in every Superbowl weekend for nearly 15 years. We didn’t play last year because of his shoulder surgery. I didn’t play this year because I was barely three weeks post op. But Mark played. I went down to take some pictures during one of his games. Again, to watch the game and be unable to participate….so difficult. After watching one match during pool play I had to leave. I was nearly in tears and couldn’t stay there any longer.

I realize that I’m doing the right thing. I’m taking my time. I’m following doctor’s orders. I’m going so slow at everything I do. I’m mindful of my body. I’m not overdoing anything. I have to keep reminding myself: Slow and steady wins the race. So I will go slow. I will be steady. And I will win this damned race. But holy hell, I hate being the tortoise!

See that team? You know what’s wrong with the picture??  I AM NOT IN IT!!!

And here is my man! In his element! In my element!


I’ll be back soon.

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