I was up til 2 am with tears streaming down my face. I felt sick. Dizzy. Enraged. Disappointed. Terrified.
I read the first half of A Stolen Life: A Memoir by Jaycee Dugard. Here is a link to Jaycee's first interview after her release.
Jaycee's book is the true story of how she was abducted at the age of 11 by a man and his wife. They kept her prisoner for 18 years. She became sex slave to her captor. The book relays details that inspire the urge to vomit. She bore two of his children. The story is horrendous. I couldn't put it down so I read through my tears.
I had no idea the book would affect me in such a manner. I didn't know how to get out from under the haze of sorrow I felt after reading.
I awoke sad and mistrustful of the world. I wanted to curl up in a ball and stare at the wall. Instead, I lectured my children on the way to school about safety and Stranger Danger. I told them all how much I loved them. That if anything happened to them I would never be happy again.
Then, I, Nervous Nelly, sent my children off to school.
I didn't know how to make myself feel better so I went to the gym. Exercise always helps. Gets the blood all flowin' and endorphins get me all happy...
And plus, I can make fun of people in my head. And that's mean. But would you rather have me crying in my room? WOULD YOU?! OK, then.
Mr. Miagi was there. I grateful. For the comic relief.
Mr. Miagi was dubbed Mr. Miagi by my husband and his lifting buddies. They are a whole entire group of ENORMOUS meat heads. I get to know all the the jokes they say 'cause my husband is one of the boss men in that place. (Men do this whole pecking order thing... It's very primal.)
Mr. Miagi doesn't mean to be funny. Nay.
Mr. Miagi means to be a serious lifter. He wears all the proper attire for a serious pseudo-lifter. He wears no-nonsense combat boots. He wears black cargo pants pulled up to his nipples. The pants are cinched with a shiny black belt and tucked into said boots.
I would be remiss if I did not include the fact he wears a wears a BELLY SWEATSHIRT... (Only very serious lifters can wear sweatshirts that expose the rock hard distended steroid belly.)
I was lucky today. Mr. Miagi decided to buzz around me for the duration of my workout. He grunted EXTRA LOUDLY. He HUFFED AND PUFFED AND GRUNTED WITH GUSTO.
He PUSHED AND PULLED so very hard I was concerned he might sustain an accidental bowel movement before my very eyes.
I snuck a glance to see how much weight this man was managing on the Lat Pull Down Machine. I imagined it must be a great amount of weight for all that noise! He must surely be the Barnum and Bailey Circus Strong Man on the off season... Maybe I would get his autograph!
90lbs. He was lifting 90lbs. That's exactly how much I lift on that exercise. I felt sad for him. I felt compassion for Mr. Miagi of The Combat Boots.
I was his sweetheart today. I was The Chosen One. I can't say why he chose me. He has always ignored me in the past. I felt extra special.
He paced directly in front of me after performing every exercise. Back and forth he paced. All the while trying to catch my eye.
I felt trapped and woozy from the strength of his cheap cologne which had formed a noxious cloud about my person and threatened to asphyxiate me.
So I stuck my fingers in my ears and I plugged my nose and closed my eyes real tight and shouted ,
"LALALALALA I CAN'T SEE YOU OR HEAR YOU, MR. MIAGI!"
Then he said, "Wax on. Wax off. Daniel son."
So then I was like,
"DON'T YOU BE TALKING ABOUT MY PERSONAL WAXING HABITS, YOU BELLY SHIRT WEARING... um... guy...with... weird... pants...and a flat top hair cut which is unflattering to your face...!"
(My insults leave something to be desired.)
After that encounter I did some abs. I felt much better. See? I'm smiling.
Then I did cardio. I read a funny book as I incline walked. I'll Mature when I'm dead by Dave Barry. Totally up my alley. HILARIOUS! Dave Barry is freaking AWESOME.
I laughed out loud on the tread mill. People stared. I looked People in the eye and smiled broadly at them, which can be scary to a starer.
So see? When you have a bad day and remember how much evil there is in the world and feel helpless, you should totally go to the gym and live in the present moment.
You should be grateful for your healthy body and that you are free to do what you will.
Who knows, maybe Mr. Miagi will be there to remind you things could always be worse...
PS I'll be BAAAACK.
(Thought I'd throw in a little Arnold for ya...)