The Ass-Hors d’oeuvre Theory…

As if “My Butt-crack ATM” wasn’t enough (http://longship.ca/lupusinterrupted/?p=74) …today’s installment of all things keister related is my sudden epiphany of what I would like to endearingly coin as:

“The Ass-Hor d’oeuvre Theory”

My ass is…indeed…a theoretical sausage bite.  Y’know those little sausage-y pieces that have been wrapped up inside the oh-so-very-YUM flaky pastry stuff and baked?

I cannot relate my ass to a sausage bite in terms of size…I should be so lucky…no…this epiphany came as a result of –

– Let’s backtrack a wee, shall we?

This week began with the Frabjous Day.  It was a day which also rang in my newfound freedom to take classes at the local gym (The Athletic Club – freakin’ RAWKS!!).  So, with this much anticipated availability…I went Tuesday to take a BodyArt class, which was a pleasant mix of yoga, strength and cardio.  As previously mentioned, I also stayed for the Yoga Meditation (I just wrote “medication”…foreshadowing…Google it).

Wednesday I went to the Club to take the “Beginner Yoga” class.  Oh, I’ve taken many a yoga class before…Power…Ashtanga…Kundalini…etc…but please remember:

I have hardly moved my “I’ve-earned-this-ass” for months.

I think I did pretty damned well, to boot!  I certainly have retained a lot of flexibility which is…uh…good.  *clears throat*  Strength in the upper body is fairly good, lower body sucks.  Range of motion is severely restricted, however, in my lower back and ankles, of all damned places.  That surprised me.  Not quite sure how to fix that.

Today is “rest” day.  “Rest” is a relative term, in my world.  Not wanting my muscles to seize up, I popped myself some Advil and walked to my local Walmart.  Not a long walk, by any means…but with –

– Let’s get back to our “Ass-Hors d’oeuvre Theory”

My ass, in simplest terms, is indeed a muscle wrapped up in a layer of…uh…”protective covering.” *evil eyes to you if you say it out loud*

I know this…because the “I’ve-earned-this-ass” sized sausage-y bits, which both logic and science dictate would be actual muscles, of my ass are on freakin’ FIRE.

No, nix that.

The “I’ve-earned-this-ass” sized sausage-y bits of my ass have been bitten by the hounds of HELL.

Not just my ass, either…my legs…my abs…Hell…I have ab muscles in places I didn’t know you COULD have ab muscles.  I have been popping Advil AND Tylenol like it was candy.  For two days.  Lard tunderin’ jeezus, I tell ya now…OW!!!

Lyrica? Ppppffffffffffbbbbbbbtttttttt…to quote M.C. Hammer…”Can’t touch this.”  BUT, I am pleased to say, it is helping me sleep at night…

…well, that…and the Mersyndol.  It’s like my own personal brand of pain crack, without the prescription. *mental note to self: all out of Mersyndol

So…to recap…this week I started going to the gym to take classes that are necessary for the future ability of my decrepit body to fight against itself fighting against itself *shakes head* to push this bullshit into, at the very least, a remission of some kind so that I can enjoy…y’know…LIVING.

I’ve done so whilst also pushing through the pain of the usual…uh…pain, while brain fuzzy as a drunkard.

And I’ve come to the epiphany that has correlated my ass with an hors d’oeuvre.

Props to me.

– so, walking back from Walmart with Go, Go Spazzy legs! and snausage ass…while I could have driven…I chose not to.  And it took me a little longer than it would normally.  And I didn’t give a crap.

Because I chose to walk instead of drive even while feeling like the hounds of hell have confused my ass with Beggin’ Strips.

The exercise sucks a bit…but I know it’ll get better.  It is also helping me focus on entirely new goals and how to set limits for myself and respect them (case in point…”rest” day).

Oh, and it’s officially Fall.  In my books, anyways…when this happens:

30 pairs of socks for Thing 1 and Thing 2.

Operation Re-Stock successfully completed for $5/10 pairs.

Score. :o)

 

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