Hurty Gertie

Unlike the last few decades of my life, spent above water, paddling, I swam today. Eight laps, maybe nine in the local pool. Slow, mostly on my back, water in my nose and goggles freaking me out, but I swam.

I need to swim. I’m fat. I’m very fat. Two hundred and fortyish pounds on a 5’4” frame is not acceptable. The weight congealed as my body grew up (and out!) through a few decades in a cubicle-shaped environment, long commute, pregnancy, PCOS, and lazyness. And it’s a bit of a pile-on effect as well; tired so I didn’t cook/eat healthy, work out, get out more; I let the inertia of life take over.

Despite occasional renewed efforts to get up and do stuff, it never lasted very long (except for a few encouraging spates where I dropped to 180! Woo!). And then more ennui set it. Messy, no need to get into it.

But here I am, out of shape and out of whack to boot.

The working diagnosis is Psoriatic Arthritis. Which I hear is better than Rheumatoid Arthritis, but I guess we’ll have to see. I’m no warrior, just someone trying to get along. But her blog is very good, and since a lot of overlap exists between PsA and RA treatments, it gives me something to read and something to look forward to beyond my own little successes.

So today’s success: SWIMMING. Not paddling around the pool with the kids, doing some light bends and stretches, but swimming so hard my shoulders ache. Fifteen minutes of continuous laps in the lap pool bringing my lifetime total to … drumroll please … FIFTEEN MINUTES!!! Yay me. Defeating not just the inertia but the whole freakshow of swimming under water with goggles and remembering to breathe. (more…)

The answer is no. I don’t play a violin anymore (didn’t keep up my study) though I’ve always found the thought of being a viellist rather appealing. But if you don’t know already, a hurdy-gurdy is a cute little “cranky” violin or organ (it varies, though I learned of it as an organ crank instrument) but aside from one gushing paragraph, this is all I have to say about the instrument (s).

“Hurty Gertie” appeals to me as the name of a blog as much as “Hello Shitty” but is less likely to come under the wrath of Badtzu Maru and the Sanrio corporation. And the idea that I’m approaching my life as day after endless day of shittyness is just not very … appealing.

So goodbye shitty, hello from Gertie. Hurty Gertie on bad days.

G!