"You'll Feel Better Now That That's Off Today"

Okay, so that's an odd title for a post, but it was equally odd when the subway station attendant made that comment to me this morning.

I see this woman every morning and say hello to her most days. She's made comments in the past that suggested she'd observed me and knew a little bit about me, as people who you walk by every day usually do. For example, after several days of carrying a black music folder and singing along to my iPod, I came through with a small suitcase and a hanging bag on a Tuesday. She asked if I was on my way to a dress rehearsal. I wasn't, but she had the right idea: I am indeed a performer, and I have been known to go to a dress rehearsal or two.

In any case, I was walking with considerable difficulty when she made that comment. I asked what she meant by it, and she pointed to my leg, saying that "you should just give it time to heal; it will get better." I'm guessing that she thought I was recovering from an injury and had been in a cast or something.

It took me six minutes to walk from the subway station at 51st and Lex to my office lobby on 50th and 3rd. That's ridiculous. I got to the office and Judy, who was filling in at the front desk, asked why I was walking strangely. I simply explained that I'm marrying a sadist.

Okay, so, maybe it's not entirely Greg's fault. I mean, it's not even like I've seen him for a week. But he IS the one that made up this #$!%ing exercise plan that I'm trying to get back into! (For those of you thinking my fiance hates me, you should know that I asked him to develop a workout for me, and that he really did do a good job.) I exercised two nights ago; I stretched out before and after, and several times since, but my legs are stiff to the point of being gimpy.

It's been over a month since I did, well, any exercise, so I'm back on the first week's plan. It consists of crunches, pushups and a few other things to work my back and abs. That's all just fine- no problems there. The issue is the stairs. I'm supposed to climb to the top of my building (the 30th floor) and walk back down to my apartment (on the 12th) after I'm done with the other things. And, like an idiot, I decided to pass the 12th floor, go down to 7 and back up... I was exhausted but thought I could handle a few more flights. No pain no gain, right?

Well, the thing is that this isn't at all like climbing a stairmaster- which I do just fine on. No, this is a NYC fire stairwell with steps at close to a 45-degree angle. 23 floors of sheer pain; no stopping. Oh, and did I mention I was doing this at 2:00 am? (I promised myself I wouldn't go to bed without exercising... and then did anything else I could think of first.)

So, everyone from Cathy at reception to the guy at the newspaper stand in front of our office has asked me "what happened to your leg?" today. It's true, I am walking like an elderly woman with a broken hip, but I'm trying so hard to just walk normally!

So, okay- I'm done kvetching about my legs. But I'll buy dinner for anyone who wants to offer me a calf massage.