Shouldering a setback

In my apparently overzealous attempts to find my waist, I somehow managed to pull something else, rendering the search temporarily and frustratingly on hold.

During dinner on Friday night, as my thighs silently but forcefully pleaded to be cut loose from the confines of what I had, at one point, thought was stretch denim, I started noticing an odd pain in my left shoulder. Though I had lifted the night before, it didn't feel like muscle soreness; it almost felt like a fever ache or the pain that results from a tetanus shot. So naturally, I drank some wine when I got home and went to bed.

I woke up Saturday morning and almost screamed out in agony. Whatever dull ache had been in my shoulder had migrated to my neck, and left me unable to move without pain. Because I am a big baby, I called my mother to cry about it. She first suggested the emergency room, an idea I immediately shot down, and then talked me through a number of other suggestions. Why I needed to call 3,000 miles away to be reminded that I had Aleve in the next room, I don't know, but what are mothers for if not to point out the obvious?

I took two Aleve and sat down on the couch, annoyed that I would be missing my favorite yoga class but secretly excited that I would finally be able to watch the morning marathon of old 90210 episodes on SoapNet. (Kelly gets shot, has amnesia, Noah and Hilary Swank's Carly are introduced, and David signs an anti-semetic band that overstays their welcome at the beach house. Not my favorite season but enjoyable nonetheless.)

By 11, the Aleve had pleasantly kicked in, and I set out about doing my errands that couldn't be left til Sunday (picking up shoes from the cobbler, brow appointment, and navigating through the craziness of Bed Bath and Beyond for a heating pad and a scale, which, after not owning one for 32 years, I have decided might actually be of use).

The heating pad I purchased was a microwaveable Bed Buddy. I've seen versions of this at our Spa in New York, and those ones are filled with lavender. Yum! This one, however, seemed to have been filled with yeast, or flour, as the minute I microwaved it, I got a whiff of biscuits. If you like biscuits, I suppose that might be a selling point, but I prefer lavender over leven, especially when weight is at issue.

Fortunately, the doughy fragrance disappeared after microwaving it a few times, and by the time I went to bed last night, I felt almost as good as new. Sure enough, I woke up this morning, and the pain is completely gone! I'm not going to push it, and am making myself take it easy for one more day, even though that means instead of focusing on my shoulder, I'll mostly likely be obsessing about my thighs. A Saturday afternoon/evening of sitting on the couch was not, in fact, on my great get-in-shape-in-2008 agenda.

At least I can't obsess about my weight. The scale I bought yesterday is broken.