Jelly Legs

It's been about three and a half years since I stopped jogging every day.  Gaining weight and changing shape is one result.  But what's far more important is that I've become weaker in every way.  I keep determining that I will get back in shape.  But between time constraints and physical pain, I don't.

So with good intentions I set off today on a mini bike ride.  Baby steps, y'know.  I planned for a whoppin' mile-and-a-half.  Today I almost had to get off the bike to walk it up the hill in front of Luecks' house.  Good grief.  Came home to a heart thump-thumpin' away and legs that felt like jelly.

And it crossed my mind that I really have empathy for Maggie now.  Not sympathy.  Not instructions.  Not cheerleading.  But empathy. 

And I'm wondering if the cysts and the misshapen foot bones and the leg pain, all of which combined to end my jogging regimen, were gifts from God.  Maybe these things put Maggie and me at the same point.  Maybe if we are equally out-of-shape, equally inept, equally weak, we can make our feeble attempts together. 

Or maybe I'll continue in my discouragement and physical weakness. 

I hope not.  I gotta try again tomorrow.  We gotta.