Curious Anatomy
Jan. 14th, 2008 06:23 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
penfield"Guts are a combination of confidence, courage, conviction, strength of character, stick-to-itiveness, pugnaciousness, backbone, and intestinal fortitude. They are mandatory for anyone who wants to get to and stay at the top."
- D.A. Benton
Tell that to anyone who accuses you of having a big gut. Of course, that might be taking the term "intestinal fortitude" too far. It probably ought not to have made it this far; as a cliche it's bad enough, but I don't even know what it literally means. I've always sort of imagined it meant that a person could eat a lot of Mexican food without spending the next morning reading Sports Illustrated, if you know what I mean.
Actually, it was my backbone that had me vexed this past weekend. More accurately, it was the muscles surrounding my backbone, which were putting the "spaz" in "spasm." I woke up on Friday unable to move fluidly in any direction, as if I were anatomically forced to do The Robot. By Saturday morning I was moving like Frankenstein. On Sunday I tried not moving at all, but that actually felt worse.
Trying to sleep was an exercise in mechanical engineering, as I tried to arrange a variety of pillows, blankets, clothing and other apparatus to reduce pressure here and provide support there, which would last for five minutes until I got thirsty or until J. jarred loose my lumbar cushion with her knee.
Thank goodness for leftover Vicodin and the NFL Playoffs, which allow for the perfect combination of lethargy and pacing around. Unfortunately, the results of the AFC contests severely challenged my intestinal fortitude.
I am better today, though it may be awhile before I ease back into my exercise routine. See? Ultimately, it all comes back to guts.
- D.A. Benton
Tell that to anyone who accuses you of having a big gut. Of course, that might be taking the term "intestinal fortitude" too far. It probably ought not to have made it this far; as a cliche it's bad enough, but I don't even know what it literally means. I've always sort of imagined it meant that a person could eat a lot of Mexican food without spending the next morning reading Sports Illustrated, if you know what I mean.
Actually, it was my backbone that had me vexed this past weekend. More accurately, it was the muscles surrounding my backbone, which were putting the "spaz" in "spasm." I woke up on Friday unable to move fluidly in any direction, as if I were anatomically forced to do The Robot. By Saturday morning I was moving like Frankenstein. On Sunday I tried not moving at all, but that actually felt worse.
Trying to sleep was an exercise in mechanical engineering, as I tried to arrange a variety of pillows, blankets, clothing and other apparatus to reduce pressure here and provide support there, which would last for five minutes until I got thirsty or until J. jarred loose my lumbar cushion with her knee.
Thank goodness for leftover Vicodin and the NFL Playoffs, which allow for the perfect combination of lethargy and pacing around. Unfortunately, the results of the AFC contests severely challenged my intestinal fortitude.
I am better today, though it may be awhile before I ease back into my exercise routine. See? Ultimately, it all comes back to guts.
