Apparently my already, overly self-conscious, brain feels differently about that, so let me introduce you to yet another small chunk of crazy that dwells in the dark corners of my mind.
I try to exercise everyday, and since my neck injury in April, walking has been the only physical activity that I've been able to do with relatively little pain. It's relaxing, and it gets me away from the computer and out of the house, all good things.
Normally I just do a quick warm-up, put on my headphones to drown out the daily static and I'm off. Not the case this week. After some concern about my feet and hips and how that might tie in to my neck problems, I'm suddenly aware of every step I'm taking; making sure I'm not over-striding, noticing what part of my foot hits the ground first, what toes I'm pushing off with, the tightness in my ankle, the slight ache in my knee, the sway of my hips...
Are you kidding me? I just want to work up a good sweat and forget the world for an hour.
At one point I actually tripped because I was concentrating on how my shoe laces were tickling the tops of my feet. I would've called it quits right then, but I still had a mile to go.
So there you go, a quick glimpse into my daft mind. Hopefully next week I'll be able to walk without psychoanalyzing my every breath. No promises though, this can of worms has been opened.
Like a child we play chase, in the hopes of capturing just one. At last I scoop one out of the shadowy sky. I screw the top on the jar, holding it tight with both hands. Then I watch as the light fades and goes out and I'm forced to set it free again, leaving me alone in the darkness - a thousand flickering lights above my head, but not enough to light the way home.