I Can’t Feel My Legs

(I don’t have any legs! I think I need a hug…)

I try to keep myself busy these days, which involved joining a million societies – and quite a few sporty ones – at the start of the year, and sticking with them for as long as I could; the upshot of this is that last week, I played sports every evening from Monday to Friday, then went clubbing on Friday and Saturday night. And now my lower body refuses to cooperate with my brain.

There are obvious disadvantages to this – everything hurts, I feel like I’m not spending as much time as I want to with my friends outside of these clubs, and my performance in these activities has been getting progressively worse over the week – and even the benefits of all this exercise have been rather undermined by my refusal to eat anything more than a bowl of serial every day if I’m lucky, meaning I’m losing an unhealthy amount of weight, and gaining nothing in terms of muscle.

But I don’t care, I’m enjoying doing this stuff; without wanting to sound like a YOLO-quoting, hashtag-abusing carbon life-form devoid of an appreciation of the longevity of life, and dare I say intelligence too, I’m not particularly concerned with the consequences of the things I do while I’m doing them, or when I’m making plans to do them. If I want to do a thing I’ll do it, and do it as intensively as possible for as long as possible, because the alternative is not doing that thing, which is relatively boring.

Also, I like to draw a line between mental stress and physical stress (probably because Football Manager divides players’ attributes into mental and physical categories, and that game has had a greater influence on my character today than my parents, teachers and friends put together), and while these sports are ultimately physically tiring, they’re not so intensive and so relentless that the physical fatigue they cause can’t be overcome through mental action. Basically, I’m getting tired, but not tired enough that it’s physically impossible to move the next day, so I’ll just decide to do more things that day. Incidentally, there have been a few times where I have been so exhausted movement has been impossible, despite my mental intentions, such as the week after my four-day Gold DofE expedition, and my first time playing a 90-minute football match in which I ran around consistently for about 89 minutes and 59 seconds of it.

But attempts to throw a handball or work on the art of faking a front punch to disguise a kick in karate aren’t that strenuous, because I’m not good enough at them to tire myself out like that – I can walk and run pretty well, on the other hand – and these are weekly, regular activities, designed to be activities of medium intensity that you can replicate week-on-week, instead of being an annual, leg-crushing football match, or a four-day, one-off expedition that basically serves as the final boss in the video game-like world of the DofE award, which is amusingly about as annoying and full of tedious bullshit as the Myst series.

I’ve had today – Sunday – off, getting up at four in the afternoon, watching the France-Scotland rugby game on iPlayer and listening to Lady Sovereign, again trying to weight up whether her albums are really worth me buying on iTunes, then worth the space on my phone they’ll take up. But tomorrow I’ll be back doing karate, and getting set for another deceptively stressful week of dodgeball around this time next week.

Unless the fact that I have to read The Mill on the Floss in, like, a day becomes an issue. Maybe don’t hold me to that promise, handballers, dodgelings and martial artists.

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19 thoughts on “I Can’t Feel My Legs

  1. You are incredibly sporty! LIKE WHOA.
    And :O you did gold DofE! I was one of the literally 2% of my year that didn’t even opt for bronze back in year nine. People still think I did to which I respond with a rather stunned “Can you see this *motions at self* walking across a field?”
    I mean, I could handle the volunteering bit and whatnot, but expedition NUH HUH.

    I drifted slightly.

    Get some rest!

    1. Hey, you do netball don’t you? That’s a sport! Also, I’m not ‘sporty’, because that suggests I’m good at sports – I’d use the terms ‘endearingly enthusiastic, yet devoid of any actual ability’ to describe my relationship with sport.

      Also given the bureaucratic nightmare that is getting all the sections signed off, the expedition is truly the easiest part.

      1. I’m sure you’ve some ability. But I see what you mean with the term ‘sporty’ because yeah I do a few sports but people think you’re above decent when you join a club and you’re all “WHAT NOOOOOO.”

        I don’t believe it. Really? But isn’t the weather always terrible. Sure, depends on where you are but come on, it’s England.

        1. It snowed on my silver practice expedition, it took twelve hours to get home after the second day was cancelled, we had to push the mini[bus out of a ditch it fell in because we were in Derbyshire and they couldn’t get a recovery vehicle to the road we were on, and we were told we had failed the expedition because we didn’t complete all three days, so we had to go on a second practice before the real thing.

          And I still preferred that experience to getting stuff signed off once I’d done it.

          Whenever I tell my friends I do karate, I always qualify it by saying I’m the only beginner in a class of black-belts (which I am), just to lower their expectations to an appropriate level :’)

          1. You’re going to absolutely hate me for saying this but 😄 I laughed my socks off at that bit. I shouldn’t have! I know! But I can’t believe how you had to have two practices!

            Still whoa. The black belt thing kinda reminds me of that sudoku book I got given, described as a black belt as it’s level nine.

            I.e. Whatever stage, it’s still WHOAAAA you can kick butt!

            1. I have little faith in my butt-kicking abilities, personally.

              And it’s a great story, don’t worry about it – I was the only person laughing through it because of how stupid and annoying it all was, my groupmates probably wanted to kill me.

            2. How were your orienteering skills? My friends bickered a lot through that (I watched two of them moan over how they were left to do most of it in the library).

            3. We used a system of ‘first-come-first-listened-to’ – basically whoever picked a direction first was the de facto leader, and we followed them. In bronze it was this one girl who then left, so my mate took over for silver and gold. But he was nursing loads of chronic injuries from sports, so I ended up navigating whenever the expeditions got into the latter days and he got pissed off and injured.

              Also A-level geography ftw!

            4. Well, it clearly worked as you made your way back! (One ridiculous myth which I probably partially fuelled was that you might get stuck in a farm and then suddenly BAM a month later you’ll be ringing up your friends from South Dakota. Lovely.)

              😄 came in handy!

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