I say that because after my annual physical, which in no way resembled the medieval torture session I feared it would, I did exactly what the doctor ordered…
I went for a run.
The appointment went smoothly. Since I am an employee, it was simple to find common topics to chitchat about with the MA while she did all the preliminary work. To my complete surprise, my blood pressure did not cause the machine to explode. While I know my blood pressure is normally fine, the anxiety of going to the doctor usually makes it shoot up when they check it during the visit.
My new doctor wasn’t at all evil. He was not bald, did not have any startling facial scars, and he never once put his pinky to his lips. That last one would not have been at all sanitary. He put me at ease immediately by asking me a work related question, which shifted my Deep Thought mode from “Panicked High Alert” to “Bored at Work”. Well played, doc. Well played.
In fact what he said was: “Your ole BMI, is a little too high. You can’t get any taller, but your weight can get smaller. I know it’s not fun, but just go for a run!”
Dr. S and his knack for rhyming. What a hoot! No, Horton, I said “hoot”, not “who”!
When I got back to The House on the Hill, I did just what the doctor ordered. I put on my Running Toga, laced up my Monkey Boy sneakers, and hit the road for a 3 mile run. About a mile in, I wondered if it had been a good idea to run right after I’d given blood, but since I hadn’t passed out yet, I thought I’d keep going.
It was another beautiful Summer day for a run, and I made it home in my best time of the week. Really wanting to impress Dr. S, I then dragged the lawnmower out of the garage, and completed a midweek Homeowner’s Biathlon.
I’m pooped now, but the run felt good and got my creative juices flowing. I’m sure there is a lot of writing in my future today.
Have a Happy and Healthy Thursday!