As I go into this week's Tuesday playoff game, I admit to being torn: on the one hand, I'm ready to focus on running...and the Sunday/Tuesday random game night has been wearing on my poor attempts at scheduling. I'm ready to remove basketball, and replace it with true cross-training and strengthening--last year's attempts to play basketball two nights a week as cross-training having lead to a full week's hiatus from running as I rested an aching knee. On the other hand...I feel like kicking a little ass. This conflicts with my desire to (of course) get to the gym an hour early to get in a quick loop around the river and some lunges and push-ups. (Note to self: Remember that pushups before games lead to even more airballs than usual.)
In any event, wish the Hoosier Daddy Remastered team luck in tomorrow's game--playing one of several stacked teams in the league, we'll have our work cut out for us.
Back to the original topic. In high school, playing hoops, I was the tallest girl on my team. In my high tops (you know we all wore them, me with mascot-emblazoned knee socks--which I wore to work today under my slacks, ironically), I stood perfectly between 5'11" and 6'0". My coach usually left it up to me what height I wanted to be on the game program. I imagine that the girls I'd been playing against for four years wondered how it was I suddenly shrank an inch my senior year.
Two years ago, I went for my annual checkup, and was told...that my supposed long legs only took me up to 5'10". WHAT?! All my life, I had been living a lie! Later I calmed down enough to realize that one measurement was certainly not conclusive evidence that I was in fact shrinking. I could sleep again, secure in the knowledge that there had surely been an error.
Until last year, when I was told--again--that I was only 5'10". Dammit.
Slowly, though, through the power of running, at last snatching up my mate, and overconsumption of alcohol, I came to terms with my newfound short stature. Most would agree it could hardly get worse, but it did--as only two weeks ago, I had my exam, and found out that not only had my blood pressure gone up, I had shrunk again--as was only about 5'9-1/2". And I may have rounded up to get that 1/2".
Crap. At this rate, I'll be knee high when my gigantic children reach puberty.
4 comments:
I was 5'6" for years. Then, about 7 years ago when having a physical (perhaps it's the stress of being in the doctor's office, the height equivalent of "white-coat" high blood pressure), imagine my surprise when I was told I was only 5'5". Suddenly I had to weigh less too, to accompany my new-found shorter stature. Alas, it seems we lose only the height inches, rather than pounds.
Perhaps its all the running; possibly you have just compacted with all the pounding?
Wanna go for a run? Hanging out with me is enough to remind anyone of how tall they are :) Or need I evoke the picture from Falmouth?
I'm with your mom on the compacting bit. Seems logical!
Getting shorter year by year
It's a shame you let yourself go my dear;
57 years old I'm still the same,
'course a hair piece replaced my curly mane.
I'm lean and mean and pretty trim,
Except a girdle holds my belly in.
I can hear a pin drop a block away,
IF I have my hearing aid in that day.
I can smile like the devil when I'm out on date, as long as I remember to wear my plate.
The eyes are sharp; I see just fine; my glasses aren't bifocals - just a funny line.
I still stand the same - a solid 6 feet; course the lifts in my shoes are quite unique.
Keeping in shape is a worthy cause; just look at me - I'm the same as I always was.
That was awesome!
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