One Boot at a Time

Surprisingly, Boot Camp is going well. I'm no longer in complete and total pain all day and through the night. I can roll over in bed with one easy, pain-free motion, instead of a slow, calculated and complicated series of moves with rest periods in between. I can raise myself from the toilet without using the handicapped grab bars. I can reach for something on the floor by either squatting down or bending over. I relish the joy of having two means of accomplishing a task! And I can walk up and down the stairs quietly (no "oooowwwwww!s") again. This is progress.

I imagine how much better my results would be if I laid off the beer pints and red wine. Hmmmmm. . . I'll have to try that soon.

Just tonight, after meeting friends for a couple of pints after work, I tore myself away before the third round with "oh, no--I have boot camp tomorrow morning," and home I went, as they cheerfully ordered more IPAs, ESBs and Single-Hopped Ales.

"Your priorities are out of whack," one friend said.

"I don't want to look like you," I thought, as I quickly and easily skipped out to my car and lowered myself into the driver's seat without assistance.