A Body in Motion…

Along with rejoining the gym near our house—yes, yes, I said ‘re’joining.  It’s true, I’ve been down this road before!— anyways, I have been on a quest to keep active in other areas.  I was never a real sporty kind of gal growing up, although I did participate in high jump during middle school (Grade 7 & 8)—that was pretty well shelved when I entered the distracting world of high school.  So, in the last couple of years, I have been looking around at various outdoor ‘sports’ to see which would work the best for me at this stage of my life.

Project #1:

I pulled my bicycle out of the garage, pumped air in the tires, donned my newly purchased bike helmet, and we were off!   I recall the wind whistling past my ears, the sun warm on my face, just as a thought tumbled by stating: Hey, I remember how to do this!  No problem!  This is perfect for me!

Yep, I was pumped!  I took the first corner at a fast clip—in hindsight far too fast—and ran smack into a gathering of rather large construction cones.  I flew up into the air as graceful as a sack of potatoes, right over the handlebars I sailed, and down onto the sidewalk.  And trust me when I say it wasn’t just my pride that was hurt that day—ouch, ouch, triple ouch!

Back into the garage went the bike.

Project # 2:

Ice-skating—may as well work with the seasons.  I used to love skating! (The operative words being ‘used to.’) 

Back to the store I went, and home quickly with brand new skates.  Off to the arena I hurried happy as a…well, a skater.  I was doing okay until they switched direction.  You remember the fancy footwork manoeuvre?…you know, the cross one foot over the other, as you round a corner?…apparently, I’m good in one direction, not so much in the other. 

When I fell, my butt hit the ice first, then back onto my elbows, and finally smack went my head (no helmet this time…tsk, tsk!) on to the ice.  I lay there for a minute, giving myself time to do a mini body scan (always alert for any new injuries), before making my shaky way back up onto my feet.

Two rink guards, who were shorter than me, younger than me, and most definitely much better skaters, worried around me like clucking hens until I finally agreed to sit the next song out.

Into the garage went the skates.

Basically I’m a klutz.  I trip going up the stairs, I fall going down.  I bump into doorways, I fumble and drop plates, glasses…stuff!

Project #3:

Just the other week I was encouraged to sign up for a baseball game put together by my work.  I’m told it is important to participate in such events, important to be a team player.  In addition, it’s an opportunity to have fun, to meet people…yada, yada, yada.  I’m new at my recent place of employment, and surely, my reputation of uncoordinated behaviour has not proceeded me, so I thought, why not? 

It was a perfect after work kind of day.  Blue, blue sky, not too warm, not too cool.  It was the top of the second inning.  I’m up to bat.  I hit the ball…oh yea!!….first base here I come!  Come on feet do your stuff!

In the middle of my sprint, I realize I’m in trouble.  Picture it with me if you will—the feet are a blur of activity, but the body, well the body is leaning too far, way too far forward.  Internal alarm bells start to go off!  I attempt a correction, but the body is now at a very dangerous tilt.  My brain makes the call: You’re goin’ down!

And, oh yes, I went down.  I went down hard!

It’s true, as Newton proclaimed, a body in motion tends to stay in motion. 

As I slid, bounced, and tumbled my way through and over the gravel—oh, and lovely gravel it was—I stretched my right arm out and slammed my hand onto the bag at first base. 

When the cloud of dust settled, I looked up into the face of the young man assigned to first.  Eyes wide he stepped back awkwardly, the ball already settled loosely in his glove   “You okay?” he asked looking down at me.  He knew, and I knew, that what he really wanted to say was, “what the hell just happened?”

As I picked dirt out of both hands, and mopped the blood up from my elbow with my shirt, my hubby arrived to watch my game.  When he asked how the game was going, I held up my bloodied hands, and pointed to my injured elbow.  His head dropped…chin to chest…“No, no,” he muttered shaking his head.  Obviously, he was shaken by my near death experience.

As he strolled back to his motor bike to retrieve some antiseptic wipes (how handy is that?  He comes to my game with a First Aid kit…go figure!), I caught a look of relief as it slipped across his face.  Was he perchance thankful that he was not present, sitting up there in the stands, when my ‘big fall’ took place?  I looked closer, careful not to lean too far forward.  No, I was mistaken.   It must have been a shadow, a play of evening light crossing his face.  That’s all it was.  Right?

So hubby and I have decided, together, as a team, that perhaps it is safer to stick to what I know, what I enjoy—reading and writing it is!  Yahoo!!

Oh, and I was safe at first.  At least that’s what they told me, and I’m going to go with that.

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8 Responses to A Body in Motion…

  1. Sharon Clare says:

    Oh, Carole Ann, being on the low end of the sporty scale, I feel your pain. I’m sticking to walking and floor exercises (as soon as I get back to them). I did a pilates class with my daughter when out west. That was manageable. After that, my sister-in-law and I promised to sign up for Zumba — any day now.

    Too bad reading wasn’t a sport.

  2. Sherry Isaac says:

    Oh, Carole-Ann!

    Perhaps you should try downhill skiing? At least you’re already headed in your preferred direction: down!

    I do recall you cutting a wave at our Southern Ontario retreat, swimming in the pristine lake. Methinks you are more agile than you think you are.

    • Carole-Ann says:

      Too funny Sherry and sooo true! Although I do recall my skiing activities when I was much younger, so I shiver to think how I would be now! Now swimming, that’s true, and a fairly safe choice of activity, problem is I tend to lose energy and float to the bottom! Reading and writing still a better play!

  3. Cheryl Olsen says:

    Poor Carole-Ann. I could feel your pain as I was reading your Blog but I also had a smile on my face laughing at your pain. Why do we always laugh when someone is hurt? Always after the incident of course and never during it?
    Love reading your blogs!

  4. Shannon says:

    Hey Carole-Ann,

    My childhood is full if bumps and bruises leaving more scars than the obvious visible ones. But Vance likes adventure. I cringe every time your son goes to hockey on Sundays, I don’t dare watch cause I fear what may happen. He tripped up the stairs last week and acquired a gash in his big toe, I hate playing doctor, the sight of blood makes me weak in the knees. I know I can’t wrap him in bubble wrap and I can’t stay inside forever either. As of November first, we made a vow to change our ways. Eat healthier, smaller portions, go for walks and get passes for the gym to go whenever cause a membership is a commitment I’ve failed before and be safe! Bike rides are difficult in 3 feet of snow. It’s coming!!! I’m hoping we are strong enough to keep motivated and not sabotage our efforts. But if he breaks another ankle I’m making him go to writing classes :) he is your son after all.

    • Carole-Ann says:

      Tripping up the stairs, now that I understand! haha…I swear I didn’t show Vance how to do that! Great that you are working on activities together, you will motivate each other for sure! Perhaps you better put pen in his hand and get him writing, so much safer for body and soul!

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