An at-home music festival for the soul gone wrong
The other day I decided to turn on a music festival and just dance. And it was so much fun. It’s easy to feel cooped up because we are unable to go out and less loose in the ways we know and love. For me, I love going out to dance. So why not bring it here? I forgot how much I missed moving my feet to a happy tune; to be in the pulse of thousands of people feeling that energy with you.
Then I got the crazy idea to watch a “how-to” video on how to shuffle. Yup. I’ve always wanted to learn, mesmerized by the way some people can make their bodies move, almost as if the legs detach from their daily function and dive into the rhythm with or without you. It just looks like a good time.
So yeah, why not? I figured if there was ever a time to learn a new skill, it’s now. Though I definitely got the hang of a basic shuffle-man, I did so at the expense of my calves. Poor little guys, they had gotten so used to lounging that neither I nor them saw this coming. When I was in college, I used to go out every night to dance. I sometimes can’t believe it. But I hadn’t even considered that it might take a little getting used to before jumping back in. And I was having so much fun during, that I couldn’t even feel it until after. As soon as I stopped, my head said uh-oh.
My calf muscles bulged out in pain, throbbing at the slightest pressure and piercing through in the dreaded way that sometimes wakes me up in the middle of the night when I forget to drink enough water. The infamous Charley horse. Only it didn’t happen. Instead, both legs were right on the cusp, for days, which was somehow worse. Anyways, I waddled around my house like a penguin for the rest of the week, feeling like an old biddy. No regrets.
Anyone else do anything stupid while attempting to entertain themselves?
