Sore boobs. Sore joints. Sore pelvis. Sore muscles. Sore crotch.
I’ve forgotten what it feels like to run, do planks, do crunches, dance, walk in a straight line…and get out of bed like a normal person, not like a bottom-heavy T-Rex.
I’m so swollen everywherrrrrrrrrrre.
Swollen is such an ugly word, isn’t it? Ick. And the synonyms are equally unappealing: bloated, inflated, inflamed, distended, puffed, bulgy, puffy, tumescent, tumid. 🙁 Ugh. All words that accurately describe how I’ve felt at one point in the last few months.
I’ve been waking up in the middle of the night with carpal tunnel. My thumbs lock in place, and the joints in my hands tense up like Tales from the Crypt. But once morning hits and I get out of bed, my hands go back to normal — no tenseness, no tightness, no creepily disjointed appendages. It’s so freakin bizarre.
Luckily my feet and ankles haven’t puffed up like balloons yet.
I can’t with the cankles. I just can’t.