Death, taxes, war, pestilence, and pelvic alignment

I wish I had never HEARD the words "pelvic alignment".

I didn’t go to the gym today, but I got a MAMBO-WORKOUT anyway. (That phrase swiped from my ex’s daughter, to whom anything warrenting a particularly intense adjective was a "MAMBO-fill-in-the-blank".) I spent the entire day at work on my feet paying attention to my pelvic alignment. And it *took* attention- literally, if my mind wandered for fifteen seconds, my body was independantly reverting to its former posture.

After two and a half hours of this, I felt like I’d done four hundred squats. I was exhausted and my thighs were straining. At that point, it was tempting to say, "That’s enough work for one day," but I’m feeling as if it’s sort of like quitting smoking- it might be best to just push through the initial period of torment in one chunk. Detoxing from poor posture.

Whenever this gets hard, I just think about the concept that this might be the key to my chronic knee pain. The idea of doing forms without having it hurt…. what a seductive notion.

Next priority will be the neck/head (and by association, the upper back) alignment- but for right now, it took all of my attention just to focus on the pelvic alignment.

After work, I power-walked for an hour to the auto mechanic. That would have been fine if not for the cold rain (yes, it’s STILL raining). I like walking. Rain- a different story. Ah well, it was a good workout.

(pic- Dex’s promotion)


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