We were away over the past four days. I must have come up with four blog ideas during that time, yet I cannot remember any of them.
What I do remember was the fact that I am not an outdoor person.
I am not a vigorously active person.
I actually don't like to overexert myself in any way other than mentally.
Hey, I can't feel my feet, thank you CHEMO, so walking is a task most of the time. Forget about dancing or jumping up or taking stairs two at a time.
Anyway, there are several people that I know who are (were) real athletes. They play organized sports, they run, they jog, they walk everywhere, they spend hours on their feet doing whatever it is that they do. But not me.
It bothers me sometimes that I am rather limited. I frequently have to rest, I stumble on uneven pavement...forget about walking alone on macadam. My fear of falling is accentuated by the roughness under my feet.
If I fall, I'll probably break something.
I've already done that and am messed up because of falling off a curb.
Anyway, going back to my childhood, I remember not being able to run fast. I always got caught playing tag. I couldn't throw a ball far. I could kick, but running to the base during kickball usually didn't accomplish much for my team.
I couldn't figure out how to twirl a baton.
Well, I got some moves down, but nothing that would get me to be a majorette.
Turns out, there were two things I really could do.
I could dance to popular music. Came in handy often.
My crowning achievement, however, was that I could walk on stilts while no one else I knew could. They tried, but they failed.
For some reason, I figured out how to do it and did it all the time to show my ability.
What a big deal! I must have hung around with very supple, athletic people. But I wasn't one of them. Elementary school friends were faster, more capable on the field, more likely to finish first in games. I would have liked to be among them, sometimes.
But I could walk on stilts!!!!!