J+9
I finally broke today.
I had tried to get to my physio appointment at 10am at Tottenham Court Road a good 25-30mins cab right in Oxford St traffic (I skipped the first 3 due to all sorts weak excuses I gave myself). I called Hailo (need black cab since they have swivel chair that allows one to hop onto from a walking frame/crutch easily). It took 20 minutes for me to walk from my bed to the lobby of my apartment (about 20 metres). The cab was waiting patiently outside when my right leg buckled. I felt cold nail against skin (all in my head, I was told it's not possible), it was excruciating. I was blinded with pain. I groped for the first thing around, which is the lobby sofa and collapsed. I was defeated, half panicked that I had broken something and half in shame of my pathetic willpower.
I texted Filippo frantically hoping he would give me some kind words of comfort and validate yet another excuse not to show up at physio. He replied that he didn't know what to say and that Doc G wouldn't be happy. Then, I tried bribing, asking him if he could do physio at my house for a £100 a day. He did not budge. I promised him that I had made great progress, that I could do all the exercises in the book now without using my hands to support my leg muscles, and that I was meeting the 200 reps requirement for each exercise that Guichet demands. I was also clicking at a 21 maximum per day with 0 pain, 0 stress and all within 3-5 minutes. Wasn't that good enough? Could I not see him and Guichet in 60 day's time? "Do what you want", he replied resignedly.
I was defeated, disappointed and ashamed of myself. My doorman enquired what kind of misfortune had befallen me to break 2 legs simultaneously. That just added even more shame as I couldn't bear to tell him about my vanity and limb lengthening. I mumbled some unintelligible rock climbing freak accident and just avoided eye contact altogether.
I've always been taught, if you fail, try try again. We hailed another taxi, and I hopped on and braved the 25 minute traffic to the gym. We're not talking long distance here, 3.1 miles to be exact. And yet, the ride is back breaking. It is so uncomfortable as one's unable to stretch or move about and every little trundle sends shocks of pain up my legs. By this time, I'm just digging deep. I asked for it, I boasted that I'm a self-hating masochist, so here I deserve it 150%.
Costs £25 to reach the gym, again, big long struggle to hop out of the swivel chair and by the time I made it past the front door, and down their handicap ramp (how ironic), I was literally doubled over my frame to free my arms from giving up - that was it! I've now fully exhausted my upper body power and mental will too.
We paged Filippo to come out (for what, I don't know), probably to score brownie points that I did make it to the threshold of the gym (literally, at the ramp leading towards the lobby of the gym where they post "GET FIT NOW" placards to entice walk-ins) and hope to get a pat in the back. He asked me why I couldn't I enter the gym and join him at the studio. I said, I could only make it this far, that was it. I've given all I had. And I broke down. Torrential downpour.
I cried and cried, feeling silly, stupid, vain, selfish, shallow, weak etc. Filippo grabbed a chair from reception and asked me to sit and relax for a second. He generously told me that he was super happy to see me come this far and that I could go home if I wanted knowing that I had enough strength to make it to physio fully the next day.
I did, the coward that I was. Went home with my tail between my legs. My legs were on fire the rest of the day, as if to punish me too for my cowardice and vanity. I was frozen in the heat of summer, from overexertion (pooping does that to you too! That's how weak and fragile you are). It took my painkillers forever to take effect. I couldn't sleep, I couldn't move, I spent all my time tucking in my cold feet then shrugging off my blanket from perspiration. This literally lasted from 2pm until dinner time. I can't begin to describe what happened next, I've not been on my laptop since 3 days, and it's literally sitting 2 inches from my face. This is how weak I was. The irony is, most of my suffering in hindsight, is not due to my legs, G nail, clicking, wounds nor even broken bones. It's something else that I simply did not take into account at all.