So I walk into the chiropractor’s office today in hopes of some kind of cure. I have a high pain threshold don’t get me wrong, but I couldn’t take not being able to move. I’d already watched everything I’d wanted on Hulu, and was quickly running out of anything interesting on Netflix.
Since most of my typing has to be done sitting up.. or even slightly sitting up.. and that was painful.. I wasn’t get much work done.
Anyway, I walk in. (By walk I mean I waddle in like an old lady barely moving one foot in front of the other.. walking is a delicate balancing act. One wrong move, and I’ll get shooting pains that will drop me to the ground.)
The Doc takes one look at me, throws me into x-rays, and then introduces me to the man I’m going to marry.. or lock in my basement.. hard to say. It depends on if he comes willingly.
He’s gorgeous, in shape, with short dark hair and brown eyes. He’s euro-mutt probably by his looks, but he’s definitely got all the right parts.
The clincher for me was that he was uber nice in a way that …. well complimented his looks. A combination of sexy, smart, and sweet that is just deadly.
Now as most of you know I’m a bigger girl. I’m used to being near gym buffs and having them treat me as inferior or as if my size is 100% my fault for sitting around and eating bonbons all day.
He didn’t. I am still a little in awe.
He wanted me to do some yoga poses and asked me if I knew what they were by name.
“Have you ever done child pose?”
Each time he asked about different poses or exercises like that, I tried my best not to get pissed. Not everyone is a yoga aficionado.
“Umm.. maybe? I’ve probably done it, but I couldn’t tell you what it is.” (Btw even if I had known the yoga-term I’d not have remembered it. It’s how my brain works. You can pretty much ask me any song title.. “Have you heard it?” I’m probably going to look at you with the “deer in the headlights” expression until you play the song.. which I’ll generally go “Oh yeah that one”)
Each time, he’d kindly show me each stretch/position and unlike any trainers of any kind from my past, he expressly forbid me from doing anything that hurt.
“If it hurts, you need to stop.” (Like music to my ears, that whole pain is gain speech makes me want to punch people in the nose – when I get old enough to pass for senile, I probably will punch someone in the nose if they say it to me.)
Most of the things were stuff I was already doing at home as it relieved the pain for a few minutes. (I know how to stretch, and stretch well.)
Anyway, there came a couple stretches that I couldn’t do.. not because of my pain exactly, but because it would require me to arch my back (pain) in order to grab my leg and do it myself. So he helped me.
You know that stretch where you have your leg straight in the air and someone pushes against to push it to your chest?
He pushed my first leg and pushed a little more, and was barely stretching me, but looked a little alarmed/shocked.
“You’ll tell me when this gets uncomfortable… right?” He said as if he expected me to start saying “ouch”.
“It’s fine. I’m not really feeling a stretch.”
“Really?” He pushed a bit more, and my leg went up further. His eyes got wide.
“Wow, you’re really flexible.” He said, clearly astonished with a little flicker of something mischievous in his eye that he quickly blinked away. But I caught it anyway and smiled.
Looks are deceiving. It probably also helps that I had a few years of contemporary (modern ballet) dance to help with that.
We talked a bit more, and he was very attentive and kind. (And hot).
I’ll be in again tomorrow. Hopefully I’ll see him then. This time, I’ll pay attention and get his name. (it’ll make it easier to stalk him and randomly “run” into him elsewhere)