While on the beach this summer, my nephew-in-law and I struck up a conversation about the marathon he ran last January in Walt Disney World. He said he was glad he did it, but then he added, "I hope I never ever feel the way I felt at Mile 23 ever again."
I think it was Mile 23. Maybe it was 22 or 24. But that's not the point. The point is he felt so totally and completely like crap that he never wants to feel that way again.
Oddly, I don't feel that way about my marathon experience although by the time I finished my calves felt shredded. Like carnitas. Yes. My calves had turned into carnitas over the course of 26 miles. They don't tell you that in books like Marathons for Dummies (and anyone who runs a marathon is, in fact, a dummy).
But I do have my own list of ways I never hope to feel again. Here's a sample.
1. I never want to feel the way I felt the first time I went into labor again. I was all YOU'RE KIDDING ME, RIGHT?
2. I never want to feel the way I felt when I had Hepatitis again. Basically you lie on your bed praying for death the whole time.
3. I never want to feel the way I felt that time I got dehydrated and had to go to the hospital for IVs again. It's like a cannon shot went off in my head. And then I started babbling.
What are the ways YOU never hope to feel again?
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6 comments:
You are on a roll, blog-post-wise. I hope, frankly, to never feel again the way I felt after I ate so much popcorn whilst watching The Avengers. Also, the way I felt when I had my summer cold this very summer!, and I was coughing my head off and I actually kind of saw stars inside my head, like I was in a cartoon and I ran into something. No thank you, summer cold. I do not wish to feel this way again.
At 8 1/2 months pregnant, reading your #1 made me cry a little.
The last three weeks. I hope I never feel like I have the last three weeks EVER again.
But do you know what helped? An US Weekly and Peeps that showed up in my mail today :)
I hope never to feel the way I felt when I had kidney stones; when I was crawling around the floor of my bedroom thinking that somehow that would help me get away from the inexplicable abominable pain that was pretty bad, but not quite bad enough for me to beg to be taken to the hospital; when I was wishing that my neonatologist husband would stop trying to diagnose me and just understand me well enough to insist on taking me to the hospital without waiting to be asked.
1. Having pneumonia in the first trimester of my fourth pregnancy. I'd rather die, thank you..
2. Learning that my baby boy has a rare syndrome.
3. Finding that a different son has a bunch of his own diagnoses.
This is why I don't do marathons. While they sound awful, they blessedly end after 26.2 miles. My marathon is ongoing. But at least it isn't making my calves into carnitas (best image ever!)
That time I had influenza. Felt like I'd been hit by a truck. Wanted to die. But also lost a few pounds, so that was good.
Also, that prep for the 50-year-old colonoscopy. Nope.
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