I really like my arms. They're not shapely and they're not particularly strong, but I like them. As a matter of fact, I think I like them because they're the weakest part of my body and I can watch them get stronger and more defined. Today was Arc Trainer Day, which I've given the subtitle Arm Day, so while my legs went to town, I watched my arms which braced me.
The first thing I noticed was a brand new freckle. I noticed it because I have a particular freckle formation on my forearm: it looks to me like a candle snuffer. Today the handle of the snuffer was looking more sturdy than usual. Realizing it was chocolate (I made - not ate - several trays of chocolate this morning), I sheepishly wiped it away. I remember when I used to worry about not sweating enough on equipment -- now I have to worry about not being chocolatey! But I digress.
Anyhoo, once my freckles were reduced to their normal number, I thought about how even though I think of my arms as weak, they can do some pretty good things. They can carry loads of groceries; they can toss kids around in the pool; they can hug; they're the port to giving life when I donate blood.
So when I was all done on the arc trainer I hit some upper body machines and I hit 'em good and hard because I really do like my arms and all that they do. And next summer, when I'm finally allowed to swim again, I want them to pull me through the water like nobody's business. AND I've challenged myself to do two - count 'em, two - pull-ups on that bully-of-a-bar in my childhood gym.
Grand plans. Now if only my arms would stop trembling.
J
