Sunday, Jan. 09, 2005
Dear Diary:

The thing about shaking your fist at the sky and screaming in rage, "Why me? WHY ME?" is that it changes absolutely nothing.

You can well imagine my bitterness. Seriously. I want someone to rectify this and rectify it right away. Unfortunately, the cubicle marked, "Person who rectifies odd viral illnesses" seems to be empty.

I suspect the work has been outsourced to India and they're still learning the tech support scripts.

In the meantime, I have been forced to begin investigating treatments to deal with the pain and preserve my joints from the ravages of the arthritis-like attack which is being mounted on them. Particularly vulnerable are my knees, ankles, wrists, fingers and � are you ready for this? � my big toes.

My big toes.

You know, if I have ever considered the big toes on my feet at all, it's probably been in the light of being the porcine representatives of consumerism. ("This little piggy went to market �")

Well, for the last few days my big toes have been hit hard with arthritis-like swelling and pain and now, suddenly, I've become aware just how much I use my big toes to balance myself when I walk.

I walk like I'm drunk. Without my big toes to stabilize my feet, I weave, not because I don't want to walk a straight line, but because I can't. It's odd and I think I would find it funnier if I could be assured that it will only last a very, very short time.

Mornings when I first get out of bed are the worst. My body is extremely sore and stiff then, but by mid-afternoon the pain is just a quiet echo, not a dull roar. I feel a lot better than I did, but then when this hit me full force I felt like something that had been crushed by a steamroller, run over by a zamboni and then compacted in the back of a garbage truck.

Now I merely feel like I've been hit by a train. Progress. It's all about the progress.

This afternoon I shuffled my first mile of my 1,250 goal for the year. It didn't hurt, it was just exhausting and when I got home I napped for an hour. Yep, the woman who could do a 10K is now taken down by very slowly strolling a paltry mile.

One day I will laugh about this. But not now.

--Marn

Mileage on the Marnometer: 1 mile. Booyah

Goal for 2005: 1,250 miles - 2000 kilometers


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