Sore Ass
“Will ya’ look’it that guy…”
“Looks like I did when I had my hernia and I couldn’t straighten up.”
“He walks like he’s 95 years old.”
I saunter down the street and I feel as if I’m an old man. I’ve had back pain for years. Chiropractic, massage, and asprin have all failed me.
“You ever tried Yoga?”
I look at her over breakfast with my mouth full of toast. I let the question dissolve in the air like the sip of coffee is making the toast soggy in my mouth.
Sitting there in my underwear shorts and wearing black socks (matching), I try and form an answer in my mind which might help me to remain appearing open minded, but non-commital.
“No,” I say.
“I’ll show you some stretching I do.” She smiled and bit some more breakfast.
“Look’it that guy!”
“Picture of health!”
I bit off some more toast and wondered if I hadn’t bit off more than I could chew.
***
Laying next to her on the floor, her on the side of my good ear, I hear:
“Pull your knee up to your chest.”
I pull my knee up to my chest.
“Take your foot in your hand and bring it on over.”
I take my foot in my hand and bring it on over.
“If it’s working, you’ll feel it.”
There is a burning pain in my right leg, in back, underneath all the other muscles.
“There is a muscle there called the ‘psoas’ muscle.
The burning in my right leg shifts to a mental picture in my mind of a long and yellowing stip of tallow and gristle coming alive and waking up after years of neglect and inattention.
“I think that if you continue stretching this way you may be able to see a difference after a short while.”
“Look’it that guy!”
“Perfect posture, smiling, friendly to everyone he meets!”
“I just saw him give some money to a street musician!”
“Happy with the world, he is; I wish I had what that guy has!”
“Bring your knee up and bring your leg over.”
I’ll keep working at it.
Funny. All I ever did was say ‘no’ to the initial question.
