It's not an excuse, just a reason. Somehow I woke up this morning with a stiff neck and sore arms. And I'm not talking about normal soreness (whatever that is), but a right arm, at least, that I could barely lift above my head. Fortunately, the necessity of lifting my right arm above my head doesn't come up nearly as often as it once did. Most of the kitchen items I use are now stored at eye level or below, just because I can do that.
Apparently I let Kylie hang on me a little too much yesterday. I blame myself, totally, but she's hard to say no to, and I don't see her very often. I did tell her at one point, "Kylie, either you got bigger or I got older." ("Both!" she pointed out sweetly.)
So I had an excuse for slacking off on my daily treadmill work. It's a lot easier to do that when I know I won't be seeing the doctor for several months. When the next appointment is looming, I tend to become more dedicated to my workouts. The rest of the time I'm happy to have an excuse, although I don't use every excuse I could think of. If I did that, I'd never work out. My mind is lousy with potential excuses.
When Aiden was "browsing" on my phone yesterday, he opened the clock app and started the stopwatch. I didn't know about it until I tried to use the timer today and saw that the stopwatch had been running madly, counting off tenths of a second, for over 21 hours. No harm was done to anything, but I got a chuckle out of it. It was as if he'd left me an Easter egg, although I'm not sure he meant it that way. I swear, I'd get the kid his own smart phone if I thought I could (a) afford it, and (2) get away with it. He'd get more use out of his than I do out of mine. I'm sure of that.
The pain began to dissipate by midafternoon, but not enough to get me on the treadmill. Tomorrow I'm sure I'll be back on schedule. Besides, it was one of those windy days that make me sneeze my head off for large chunks of time. I had a lot of Monday (meaning "work") to fit in between fits.