Saturday, January 16, 2010

My Bottom Half

I'm notorious for inappropriate footwear.

What's on my feet never seems to correspond to the situation at hand.

Perhaps that's just the nature of feet. Since they're at the tail end of my body, I think of them last.

After I'm all dressed and ready to go, I'll rush upstairs in a flurry to quickly decide what should go on them.

I'll wear freezing little flats when it's cold outside or pointy stilettos when I should have known that we'd be walking through mud.

Yesterday, I confidently followed my dog through a cute little patch of white snow, forgetting that my tall, faux suede boots are actually meant to serve as a fashionable pair of indoor booties.

If I suffer one of these footing mishaps when far away from home, good people will often rescue me by way of delving into their sock drawer for something warm. Men are so lucky; they get to wear warm cozy socks all the time!

Sometimes my toes will cramp up in anger when I've asked them to do silly things for much too long. It's rare, but when it happens, my hands instinctively and immediately reach down and scoop up my foot to cradle in my lap. It will happen at the most inopportune times, like when I'm wearing a skirt...or when I'm on a first date...or sitting in church...or even when I don't have a lap at all, like when I'm...(gasp!)...teaching.

But lately, it isn't my toes who have been acting up. It's my calves.

My legs are these strong, powerful creatures. I wish they were less imposing. They've helped me outrun boys that chased me on the playground and always made me win the 100-meter dash in high school.

So, when they speak up, it's like a LION roaring.

In the mornings lately, I've found myself doing these unconscious stretches before I get up.

I'll point my toes toward the window, then make my body stretch as loooong as I possibly can.

My powerful calves will then clench and hold this really tight grip with the strength of an ox or something. The intensity of their strength is what actually wakes me up. It's not painful or anything, just exceedingly strong. (Who can generate that much strength before you've eaten your Wheaties?)

They say that your tongue is the most powerful muscle in your body, and while I do think kissing is very lovely, I guess my greatest strength is actually my calves (or, perhaps I should say oxen).