Anger Issues

I hiked the canyon Sunday.

See?  Proof!  Inner canyon!

So I don't *need* to hike three times this week, right?  After all, I am doing three sessions of Pilates...so a hiking break is acceptable, right?

Or maybe not...

So I wake up this morning due to the mysterious shoulder pain that I also had Sunday.  I know it's not an exercise injury, but dang it, it's painful and 5am is too early.

Especially after being awake until midnight due to drinking too much tea.

Pain makes me grouchy.

This grouchy.

See?  We're practically related.

So I didn't want to hike.  I drove to Thumb Butte anywise.  I sat there five minutes, trying to figure out an escape.

The parking lot was full of women in exercise clothes that matched they're shoes.

Seriously?!??

I waited until they started their hike (up the steep side, mind you) before I jumped out and headed up the sissy way.

These dudes had nothing on me.

I put in my earbuds (in complete disregard for my safety) and marched up the mountain.

"Angel of the Morning" calmed me temporarily, but then it was "You Belong to Me."  Both songs make me think of long, long ago relationships, and the next song put me over the edge:  "Just the Way You Are."

The Knight of Physical Therapy used to sing that to me; suddenly I was transported back to the spring of 1996. My husband had died, and I had fled to Prescott.  The frustrations of the past few months caught up with me, and it wasn't the air monster I was dealing with when the tears began to flow.  

Picking up a stick, I heaved it into the brush.  That didn't satisfy, so I scooped up a hand-sized rock, and hurdled that, too.

He had left me.

He who had loved me more than any other, who had promised to stay by my side, had left me for the grave.  It had been awhile since that old wound had been opened; I recognized it as a reaction to being upset at others in my life.  The old "if he hadn't died..." scenario was trying to play out.  I refused to play with it.

It will be 19 years later this month.

I marched on in silence, daring the air monster to attack.

He didn't appear.

Over the top, now down the easy side...

Proof I was there, and yes, I'm gritting my teeth.

Exercise and I fought the entire way.  I finished the experience wiped out and angry.  

My day improved slightly after Pilates; I enjoyed the concentrated effort into the movements and flow.  There was something genius behind the design, again, I was intrigued.

I finished my work day late, having to attend a mixer in the early evening.  Driving home, I reflected on my foul mood.

I really don't like exercise.  At all.

I don't feel better when I'm done, I don't like it while I'm doing it.  My goal of hiking with my grand kids is twenty plus years away.  So why?

I went to bed, too tired to even finish this post.  Little did I know what the next day held in store.

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