Meeting myself as I did yesterday and today happens once every couple of years.
It turns out the wild blueberries I thought I was picking were black nightshade. Black nightshade apparently comes in edible and toxic varieties and I seem to have eaten the toxic kind.
First things first. If you see these adorable looking berries, I recommend thinking twice.
It was hard for me to type the word adorable to describe them because of what they did to my gastrointestinal tract over the past twenty-four hours. That’s even considering that this picture came from a page showing the edible kind, which I can’t distinguish from the toxic kind.
I’m sure we’ve all had the experience of our GI tract not working, not processing food how it’s supposed to, but doing probably its evolutionary job of telling us never do again what you just did. I was bent over double, moaning, almost crying, moving quickly only when compelled to move as fast as I could to the bathroom. You know how it feels just to think of something that causes that misery, which I’m still feeling, which is why it hurts to call them adorable.
Sorry for the information if too much, but I’m sure we’ve all been there in some way, usually, I hear, more from shellfish. In any case, the web said the problems would persist one to three days and I’m partway into my second. I knew I wasn’t going to die, but I also knew the pain wouldn’t go away soon. So I did the burpees and calisthenics last night, this morning, and this evening. I’m not bragging or saying I’m tough. If you saw my form, you’d see why I know what I did couldn’t qualify as bragging or tough, just consistent.
Nor am I saying I have discipline beyond what I developed by doing the daily exercises. I didn’t start with it. The first month, in 2011, developed my skills for the next month, which bought me more months until I could do years. Eventually, the sidcha became part of my identity. I’m just like everybody else regarding fitness, exercise, and discipline. I picked something requiring no extra money, time, equipment, etc. Plenty do more than I do.
Suffering through this misery, I had to write something. Doing the calisthenics under normal circumstances develops skills for their greatest rare value: doing them at their most challenges helps me find out who I am. When I say I will do something, do I?
EDIT: What do you know? After posting this entry, I saw in the Related Posts that I posted about a similar experience in Struggling through woozy adversity in 2017.
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