The Neighbor

Two out of five mornings this school year I would see a neighbor getting into his car, a van parked in the handicapped spot outside our apartment building. We live on opposite sides of the building, so it's not really appropriate to yell "HI!" at the stranger. Anyways, this man opens the sliding door on the side of the van and gets in as the driver. Next, a man in a wheelchair uses the ramp into the van and situates himself into the passenger spot. I have never seen the man in the wheelchair up close. I don't even think I've seen his face. Again, we're too far away from each other for a polite "Good morning!". I find myself wondering why he is in the wheelchair. Was he paralyzed at some point? Does he have some sort of a condition that affects him in more than just physical ways? Maybe he was born with Cerebral Palsy and has always lived his life in a wheelchair. Maybe he has arthritis and has trouble walking, so it's easier to use a wheelchair. I have no idea, but I found myself internalizing a lot more.

For whatever reason, this man is in a wheelchair. I certainly don't pity him, and I've heard that that's not what people want: pity. But here I am, fortunately gifted with an able body. And I don't always take care of it to the best of my ability. What if this man could walk... would he run? Would he treat his body as some sort of temple and really take care of it? Would he judge me if he knew how often I sat on the couch? Do I take my body for granted?

The answer is so obvious it's like a slap in the face. Yes, I take my body for granted. I don't mean to, it just happens. In the past week, I've tried to take advantage of my body's abilities. That's all I can do... try. Take advantage of my capabilities. I don't know if this all sounds self-involved; I certainly don't mean to. It's just that sometimes I see things and I want to do more. When I watch sports on tv, I want to play them. (Those stupid athletes make things look so easy.) On field day this year, watching over the hockey game between kids, I wanted to get in there and actually HIT THE BALL. When I've taught music to special ed kids, I wanted to keep them moving, because it clearly brought them so much joy. So yeah, when I see this neighbor in the wheelchair, it is thought-provoking to say the least.

Side note: check out this story... it's amazing. http://www.teamhoyt.com/

It's about a father and son who run marathons together. It's so awesome.

In case you're wondering, I'm totally NOT training for a marathon. I'm just DOING more physical activity. At least for a week. I should star this freaking post to remind myself on days when I don't feel like doing anything.

Here's what I've done this past week:

- Driving range
- Worked out a couple days at home with lunges, squats, sit ups, etc.
- Arm exercises using a full wine bottle :)
- Walked a few miles on a nearby trail
- Been to the pool a bunch. Finished "Inferno" and started "The Scarlet Pimpernel." Such a scholar. :)
- Got my ass kicked by Bridget at the gym
- Eaten a lot better, not perfect, but better
- Lost the five pounds I had shamefully gained. I got on the scale 3 times this morning to double check. I'm still confused.

And just so you know I'm not a completely changed person...

I met my friend Mary for happy hour at a Mexican bar. She drove, I had 3 margaritas and didn't realize how GOOFY I was until I got home. I face planted on the couch, and Mac insisted on me trying a "Burger Cookie" from Baltimore, a chocolate treat. He put a little piece in my mouth, I devoured it, and promptly fell asleep, face down. The next day, I noticed a spot on the couch, and if you know us, you know we're a little insane about our furniture. I leaned down, realized it was chocolate and almost screamed. I had obviously DROOLED part of the Burger Cookie out onto the couch. That's right. Epic fail.