I never once thought that in my older age I would become a gymnast, but I apparently am doing quite well at it. Unless you count the bruises and contusions. This morning I went for a wonderful jet ski ride, came back, tied up, and was standing on the lower platform of the dock. I decided to step up to the next level without using the stairs. Ha ha.
I’m a short thing and I weight a good bit more than I should and I’m 61 years old and have been ill for several months. (Obviously getting much better now except for the external bodily damage from my gymnastics.) I was so happy from my jet ski ride that I thought I could do anything.
I put one foot on the higher platform, thought again about what I was doing, but “I can do this – just focus my energy.” So I did focus, and I heaved. Well, I made it successfully to the upper platform (about 2 feet up from the lower). Unfortunately, I toppled sideways in what must have been a very difficult, and I hope graceful, somesault. My knees scraped the edge of the dock leaving no blood but scrapes and bruises. My shoulder and head hit the jet ski. I can’t repeat what I either thought or said. When my head hit, I was perplexed – this shouldn’t be happening.
However, I was only wet from the waist down – very shallow water and upper body held up by my head hanging on the jet ski edge. Thank God, the edge is rubber. So, I turned to the lower steps and sludged up them. Then I lay down on the lower level of the dock – slightly nauseated for about 10 seconds.
I pulled my aerosol air horn from my life jacket and set off a series of bursts that brought Lisa from the front yard to ensure that I reached the house safely. My skin is still oozing from some of the contusions, but I figure that will stop eventually. But, I’m clean again and will probably take another jet ski ride tomorrow.
However, as I told Lisa, I wish I hurt more. If I did, I might remember that I’m not as physically fit as I once was and that steps are a good thing. That’s why I had them built. Some part of me was aware of this, but the adrenaline from the jet ski ride clouded my vision of self. Now, I’m on my way to my regular therapy appointment, and I dread telling her that I lost sight of reality. More about reality in my next post, though.