It has been my birthday month. For weeks, as a gift to myself I wanted to be able to post how much progress I made since January. Progress in all areas of my life – athletically, personally, professionally…
Nope. Not so much. I have excuses. My former routines and facilities have been disrupted. I’ve been taking new classes that have changed my schedule. I also just got discouraged and and progress got even slower. Two Wednesdays ago (the 19th, a week after my birthday) I was going to be fantastically productive and instead I had a non-functional emotional meltdown. Fortunately I have amazing friends and family and they all were perfectly wonderful in the face of my sobbing messiness.
I wanted to say “Patience grasshopper” but I’m sick of patience. I’ve had patience. I’ve been patient for over a year. No, not just a year, years. Fuck patience. I’m ready for remarkable breakthroughs everywhere. I could use fucking movie miracles of happy rainbows bursting out of the cracks of my life like dandelions through cement.
Instead, progress is, as always, infuriatingly slow. One achingly small step at a time. Apparently tortious raging is my life. That could be my personal Disney theme song right now.
So while I have nothing miraculous to share, and it’s one tiny aspect of my life…
On February 22nd my longest timed freestanding handstand was 1.72 seconds. Last Tuesday April 25th a co-worker timed me at 3.22 seconds. I was hoping for more like 5 seconds, but I’ll take it.
I’m also learning how to roll out of handstands:
Also working the progression towards a front handspring:
Nothing else to report for now. I’ll keep plugging away one step at a time – the only way a tortious can rage.
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