I felt way too good yesterday.

It was beautiful outside. Mid-60s, sunny, a hint of woodsmoke spicing the cool fall air. I spent the morning indoors, busy with my laptop, but after lunch I couldn’t stand it anymore. I had to get outside. I had to move.

The wind-and-rain storms that blew through a few days back knocked down scads of dead leaves. So out I went, thinking I’d sweep and rake the fallen leaves off the patio and do a general “neatening up” out there while the weather was still mild and gentle.

 And it was lovely. I got started on the sweeping, but decided that since it was so nice, I should go ahead and prune back the wild wisteria, grapevine and blackberry bramble growth that took place during the summer. The combination was closing in, once again, on the path along the back of the house. I found my pruners and got busy.

An hour later, I had piles of prunings dotting the path behind me. Much raking ensued. The resulting pile was so large, raking the whole thing to the patio seemed like a lot more work than I wanted to do. So I went in search of our old yard cart — a sort of super-wheelbarrow. I found it on the back-40, full of pots with soil in them. Husband had meant to do something with them, but had forgotten to carry on with the “something.” I emptied the cart and rolled it back into civilized territory, found a pitchfork, and started filling the cart with prunings.

Still feeling great, enjoying the sun and the light breeze, I wheeled the big, green, yard-waste can around and filled it from the yard cart, using the pitchfork to stuff everything down. I still had that sweeping to do, but my, the path looked nicer!

It was as I was sweeping the steep driveway – yes, the original idea was just to sweep the patio, but I was feeling so good! – that the rheuma caught up with me. Suddenly I was completely exhausted. My feet started aching. My hands were twinging angrily. My right knee got creaky and shot painful bolts up and down my leg as I moved. But I kept on. The sun was westering. The Stellar’s jays were shouting back and forth to each other in the trees, settling down for the night. I wanted to finish the job I’d set out to do.

And I did. When I finished, the back and front of the house looked great. The leaves were raked and in the yard-waste can. But oh, was I gimping. Along with the rheuma, muscles all over my body had abruptly started griping about the unaccustomed exercise I’d put them through at Curves the previous morning. Shuffling my feet now, I put the brooms, rake and pitchfork away, rolled the yard cart out of the way but handy for the next job, and went inside. Took a long, long hot shower. Climbed into my jammies, robe and slippers.

Son-to-be Matt grilled a tri-tip for dinner, so I didn’t have to cook. A good thing, too, because I was all done in. I ate a little, read for a while, then dragged my sorry self off to bed. Slept like the dead in spite of the aches.

And then I got up this morning, early, and went to Curves again for another workout. I think I’m just going to refer to Curves as “the gym” because somehow “Curves” sounds all wishy-washy and pinky-frilly-girly to me. Well, OK, it’s girly, but dang, it’s not wishy-washy. A half-hour on those exercise machines, running in place between each one, and believe me, you work up a sweat – particularly if you’re in the sad physical shape I am. I weigh a lot less than I did at this time last year, but wow, I’m flabby. I know if I’m patient, going to “the gym” three or four times a week will get rid of most of that.

I did the workout, in spite of hands that were yelling at me. In spite of sore muscles and a twingy, aggravated right knee. Despite my rheuma-sore feet. I did it, but when I got home and showered again this morning, that was it. In the midst of all that raking and pruning yesterday, I’d been entertaining the idea of cleaning up the other side of the house today.  Clearly, I was a bit over-ambitious. Because lemme tell you, I am just flattened today. I took a three-hour nap this afternoon. Three hours! And while I did make chicken soup for dinner tonight, I enlisted hubby to chop the vegetables for me. Fortunately, he likes to play with his chef’s knife. 

 I love days like yesterday, when I’m so full of energy I feel unstoppable, when the pain from the rheuma is only a whisper and therefore ignorable. Yes, I paid for working and playing so hard, but you know? It was absolutely worth it.

I’m hoping to get busy on the rest of the yard this weekend.