Body in Motion

Remember the part in Star Wars where Darth Vader says of Luke Skywalker, "The Force is strong with this one"?

Well. The Darthster could have just as easily said that about me.

However,  I wasn't there right then, which is a good thing since I would have been no match for Darth and his light saber attachment. I would have cried like a little girl (of which I used to be one) and probably been dropped out an airlock or down into the trash compactor to be eaten by that giant, many-armed ... thingie.

(I plan to do a post shortly, entitled, simply, "Thingie."  Because it's a handy ... um wordthingie to have in ones vocabulary for the times when the descriptive section of the brain is lazy.  In my particular brain the "find the perfect word" function is very often skulking in a subterranean chamber, located down a long flight of stairs from my Reptilian Lazy Brain -- for reference see post http://lakeewriter.blogspot.com/2010/08/workout-report.html.  That evil Reptile of Laziness is no doubt the pure essence of my being.)

You may think I was rambling right there, but not really.  This paragraph totally pertains.  You'll see.

Here's where the whole constructions dovetails:  The Force that resides so strongly in me is NOT The Force that binds the universe together.  No.  Not at all.

(And anyhow, that Force is, to my way of thinking, way too dependent on both confidence and trust, and I am in notoriously short supply of both of those.  If I and my light saber had been blindfolded until I could feel The Force, I would have cauterized both my feet right off.  I know this.

All righty.  That was a ramble.  Sorry.  I had this flash of how crappy I would be at the "Trust the Force, Luke" scenario.  Here's how:  Very, very crappy.)

My Force of choice is Inertia.  It's the celebrated Inertia so eloquently described by Sir Isaac Newton in his famous, eponymous, Newton's First Law of Motion:  "Every body remains in a state of rest or uniform motion unless it is acted upon by an external unbalanced force."*

There we are.  When my body is at rest, it wants to remain in a state of rest.  So badly. It wants to arrange itself on a comfy couch or a comfy bed with 3-4 comfy, comfy pillows to prop up its neck and at least one cozy comforter and/or throw to keep it more comfy.  It would like a book or a magazine to lightly entertain in its Brain Theater of "Entertain Me!" -- which seats 500 and serves popcorn for free.  Spacious, that chamber of my head.  Vast.  It wants to be read to until it drifts off to sleep. 

This has always been my way.  My first answer to "How about we [fill in the do something/anything blank]?" is now and always has been, "Sounds fantastic. Maybe later."

Now, I don't always say that out loud.  The accomplishments of my life, many of which I'm proud to have accomplished, were wrested from the iron grip of my inclination to remain a body at rest. 

But it's tough going.  The inertia here is ... massive.  And it's gotten massive-er because now, with the knee thingie, it actually hurts quite a lot to get off the couch.  I'm not complaining.  (I'm willing to complain, of course, but that's not what I'm doing now.) 

Which brings me to the present challenge.

I have promised to get up tomorrow at 6:50 a.m. and haul my lazy... self to the water aerobics class.  Me and Newton both say, "No."  Therefore, it will be momentarily difficult for us to get going.  (He'll have a slightly harder time since he's dead.)

I will mutter to myself and embrace my pillow in a heart wrenching scene of parting. It makes me sad to picture it.  But I have given my word and I must go.

So, The Force.  I call upon The Force!  I offer up my trust and my confidence.  I tell Obi Wan, I'm gonna do it

And once I get going, the other half of Isaac's First Law will kick in and boot my fanny on down the road.  I will remain in motion.  I will keep on keeping on.  Five days of exercise.  Five, count 'em, five.

This is so not me. 

Do you hear all that slow, heavy, kind of maniacal breathing?

I think Darth Vader may have been my real dad...


*Where would I be without Wikipedia, people? Where?