The Weight Watchers Gods Have Spoken

Yesterday, I did a silly thing. I cancelled my online subscription to Weight Watchers. After two months of consistency, I got proud. My hubris angered Those Who Fend Off Fat. Last night, for NO REASON AT ALL, I couldn't walk.

It started when I was walking down the stairs with the little angel, just a twinge, the faintest hint that something might not be well with my Achilles tendon. Three hours later, I was hobbling around the house like the Hunchback of Notre Dame, calling Ask a Nurse and whining to my beloved to bring me Advil and put the little angel to bed for me (one of my favorite things to do). It really, really hurt.

Of course, my new injury rendered me incapable of facing the gym this morning, therefore wildly throwing off my schedule for the second week in a row. Yes, I admit - I am that freakish about my exercise. It really cramps my style (ha ha ha) when I can't work out.

And also - it scares me. Last night, limping around like a moron, I felt very helpless. My beloved frequently travels overnight for business - will be gone most of next week, in fact - and I was quite ineffectual with my injury last night. What if it didn't go away? What if I really hurt myself? How would I take care of the little angel?

I'm getting old. But this whole exercise (I can't stop) really drove home how terribly important one's health is. I am forcing myself to be good today. Hopefully I'll be hopping around again by tomorrow.