stubborn truculence bears the bell away
Jul. 12th, 2006 02:13 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
serindeMy lizard brain, seeing that I'm pretty wise to its whispering voice of lameitude, has developed a new tactic: psychosomatic gastric distress. It starts somewhere around 9 or 10am on days I go to aikido when it's a little too hot or a little too irritating or conditions are in any way not perfect. Not every day, and not too bad, but just enough to make me think "oh, hmm, maybe I should pass today and let my guts settle". I finally sussed what was going on when I realized that it was only on aikido days, and if I did in fact stay in, I'd be Miraculously All Better by 12:30.
It will come as a surprise to no one who knows me that this realization sent me into a steaming rage. I'd more or less accepted that there is a lazy side of me that wants to loll around and not move; but for it to have enough power to generate actual physical discomfort? No, no, and no. I refuse. DO NOT WANT.
So this morning, being hot and unbelievably sticky, it was not entirely surprising to feel my guts act as if last night's Burrito Bol[tm] was an impertinent intrusion. And I wibbled, and I thought about staying in, because who wants to be barfing all over the mat? And then I blinked back into focus, (mentally) screamed OH FUCK YOU SIDEWAYS WITH A TUNING FORK and stomped south to the dojo. And lo, once again virtue was rewarded: Keith was teaching today (I didn't know he taught anything other than weapons!), and it was a terrific class, and I played hard, but not so hard that I overextended myself. (Much, anyways.)
I just seriously wish I didn't have to fight this battle every. fucking. week.
It will come as a surprise to no one who knows me that this realization sent me into a steaming rage. I'd more or less accepted that there is a lazy side of me that wants to loll around and not move; but for it to have enough power to generate actual physical discomfort? No, no, and no. I refuse. DO NOT WANT.
So this morning, being hot and unbelievably sticky, it was not entirely surprising to feel my guts act as if last night's Burrito Bol[tm] was an impertinent intrusion. And I wibbled, and I thought about staying in, because who wants to be barfing all over the mat? And then I blinked back into focus, (mentally) screamed OH FUCK YOU SIDEWAYS WITH A TUNING FORK and stomped south to the dojo. And lo, once again virtue was rewarded: Keith was teaching today (I didn't know he taught anything other than weapons!), and it was a terrific class, and I played hard, but not so hard that I overextended myself. (Much, anyways.)
I just seriously wish I didn't have to fight this battle every. fucking. week.
