Raise your hand if you like meatloaf.
I can't stand it.
Oh wait, to be clear, the singer?
I loooveee him.
This week I got super sick. Head cold. Tore through our family. Throw in another rough doctor appointment for the monkey, with even more potentially heavy news, and my body literally turned into a giant, boogery white flag that was waving high in the air.
My husband offered to make me meatloaf.
I wanted to take that meatloaf and shove it in his butt.
Unfortunately, I had a similar reaction just now when I put on a pair of bike shorts and he asked me if I was going to work out.
Work out? Umm... I'm dying over here and he's asking about gym and dinner plans.
He means well, of course, and I'm a fire-breathing dragon right now who will likely turn his face to ash later on for, hell I don't know, asking me to pass the butter.
So what's a dragoness to do?
Channel, channel, channel that rage. Channel that cray. Channel that beast for forces of good.
This isn't always easy, of course. And depending on how dry my cup is (which these past few days, has literally crumbled into dust), I don't always feel capable to do anything other than spit lava.
What do you do when you're hanging on by that thread? Now don't tell me you're one of those people who then knits a sweater...
Man, I envy you if you are.
For me, often the only way back to the light is through movement.
Just straight up moving.my.body any way I can.
The last few days were brutal because down and out, movement was out the window unless it involved writhing in my bed.
Now coming out of the dark, I cannot wait to even just take a walk to remind myself that I'm really not that much of an a-hole.
(well, I mean, hopefully I'm not)
Stress, sickness, a combo of them both, can cause anyone to lose it some,... even you, my sweater-knitting champion.
Movement, however, serves as a powerful antidote to us all, in pretty much every way you can imagine.
And movement together?
Now we're talking a seriously effective drug.
Join us for that high this week.
Fingers crossed I won't have burned my house down and I'll have my dining room still intact to rock your BASE.
In sweaty gratitude, always,