Frailty

PunchPig sent me an email after I posted the meme the other day saying he found the 'frailty' response to the question of 'what I most feared' to be interesting.

I had typed it pretty much without thinking--first thing that popped into my head kinda thing. But frailty is pretty much it. Being weak, in terms of physical strength and spirit. My nightmare vision of myself is me as a brittle, frightened, weak, lonely old man. A lot of what I do and what motivates me is avoiding just that.

And today, frail is how I'm sort of feeling. First off, there's The Ankle. It's doing a lot better today, but still it's a problem. There's a lot that I ought to do here at the Old Homestead, mostly straightening up kind of work. But that would involve a lot of being on my feet and walking around, and I just don't feel up to it because of The Ankle. And then there's the sunburn.

Yesterday, I spent seven hours on the softball field cheering on the Ball Breakers. It was a really exciting day, lots of drama of operatic proportions, the screenplay version of the Ball Breakers. And I got a sunburn. Not severe, just red and sensitive. I have a very outdated--circa 1978--view of suntanning. I like a nice dark tan, a good reddish brown. And a little burn is good, because it toughens up the skin, and resolves itself into a nice dark brown. I comfort myself that I'm at a low risk for skin cancer due to my coloring and ethnicity, but any dermatologist would slap me for saying something like that.

So today, my arms and legs feel stingy and sensitive. The cool breeze makes me chilly and the warm sun makes me cringe.

Today, up in NYC, it's Folsom Street East. I was thinking of heading up there, but with The Ankle and the sunburn, and the hour-and-a-half drive each way... it just seems a little much to take on. Also, being there at an event like that without my Sir seems a little pointless to me. And finally, it's Father's Day, and since I'm living with the Old Guy, I can't get by with just a card. No, I'll have to make my Dad something good for dinner, probably his favorite, peel-n-eat shrimp.

But, I'm resolved not to spend the day like a shut-in, peering out at the world from behind lace curtains.

I'm going swimming. Preferably a swimming hole situation (a deep part of a creek) rather than a pool, although a pool will do in a pinch. And I'm going to the gym today. At my Sir's recommendation, doing lots of light weights and high reps. Hopefully, it will just be a bunch of skinny high school kids and middle aged housewives there, so I won't start to feel all competitive and get down on myself. Just keep focused and do what I have to do, and pecs like throw pillows and arms like firehoses and legs like trans-atlantic cables will be back in no time.

So fuck frailty. I'm tough. I can take it. I'm strong.

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