Growing Pains

Add ice skating to my list of recovered skills.

And - my leg is getting bigger! It's now only 1/2" smaller in diameter than my regular leg. (Which may have more to do with Christmas cookies than anything else, but still.) As much as my yogic perspective makes every step on the elliptical machine another notch of binding in the front of my hip that I'll have to undo later, every one-legged hamstring curl another millimeter of forward bending that I have to refind, it seems to be working. Although my butt still spasms on a daily basis. I have magnesium oil which I am supposed to rub on the area, which is supposed to take care of the situation. I have my doubts, as you can probably tell.

In any event, walking without joint pain and not having to plan my day based on how much I can handle before I have to throw in the towel and just go home is the best holiday gift I can imagine. The rest is small potatoes.

Secret Jog

Halfway through my jumping routine yesterday, Gym Teacher pulled me in close, lowered her chin, and glancing around furtively, whispered, "I want you to jog."

"You want me to WHAT?" I exclaimed, blowing her cover.

"Just, try. Slowly. Walk a few steps and then build it up."

Gentle Reader, it weren't pretty, and it weren't for more than 5 steps, but I jogged. When I tried it again later that evening, it was very gimpy. Baby steps, but I'm getting somewhere.

Fitter Happier

I'm getting really good at jumping. I can jump up and down, I can jump side to side. Jumping with one foot forward and one foot backward though has proved to be my greatest challenge (the aforementioned 'pony prance') and thus the one I have to work on the most. I also get to gallop, right foot forward, in whatever setting I deem fit. Galloping, for those that were not childhood practitioners, is the same action as skipping, except without alternating legs - you just go bonkers on the one side. It's pretty fun and yesterday when I had dragged myself, worn out from several days of city-wide mad dashing featuring multiple costume changes (yoga teacher! young mom for audition! yoga teacher again! hip urban woman for audition!) to gym class and explained to Gym Teacher that I was very tired, she would have no part of it and made me start the mad jumping routine. There's not much bouncing in adult life, and it's a shame, because I definitely felt better afterwards. Perhaps I shall begin to gallop down the street to get places.

I still run like a gimp though. Did a little dash through the turnstile to the waiting subway train this morning and could immediately sense that had I galloped, I may have retained a little more dignity.

Insurance Irony

I get my insurance by doing things like this:

http://www.chocolatecomestolife.com/productnews/

As it says at the end, life is full of chocolate surprises.

Since commercials generally like people to look the same on both sides, and also successfully walk into the room to audition unaided, I was on hiatus all summer post-surgery and only recently started auditioning again. Because of this, I have not earned enough money to remain in the top tier of insurance and have been unceremoniously dropped to the second tier. Grrr. I have another employer from whom I could receive insurance, but then I run the "pre-existing condition" risk.

Further investigation required to see what this will mean for next year's surgery. There is an option to pay more with my current insurer (of course) to remain in the top tier, but (of course) it's an enormous amount per month - over $800 more (of course). Essentially, just more pain in an area that's already in spasm half the time. Also, if I work enough between now and surgery, there's a chance I would return to my former heights of insured glory.

The more laissez-faire you can be going into an audition, the greater chance you have of booking the job. Usually people are driven to get all hyped up and over-perform due to an intense desire to succeed as an actor. I just want to get the metal out of my leg. Maybe I should bring in a "Will Work For Surgery" sign.