Birthday Boycott

So here’s what happens when I. An unabashed attention seeking Leo. Requests to skip her birthday.

It confuses people.

Like, they don’t know what to do with their hands.

Because last year.

I made sure folks knew.

They had a one week lead in to my birthday. To prepare.

To do this.

(Damn, I miss Tina Fey…)

But this year…

I told them. I am not celebrating my birthday.

Because fuck 2020.

And that seemed to confuse them.

“So…we just…don’t acknowledge it? What happens if we don’t acknowledge it? It can’t…that can’t end well…”

Some of y’all knew. How to approach it.

THE BFF, Future Daughter In Law, Rogue, and Fall Risk posted celebratory photo collages in spite of my protest. Telling everyone how amazing I am. Which was fair. And accurate.

Y’all did the Facebook and text message birthday wishes.

Newsattin brought me a gift bag full of snacks. And specifically explained that it was just a school survival pack. Not a birthday present. Because she gets me.

And Pama made me a cake. That I didn’t photograph before everyone tore into it. But it was beautiful. And delicious.

And my counselor chicks bought me lunch. Kind of. I mean, apparently really sweet dude that was at Christina’s at the time ended up buying everyone’s lunch. But I like to think it was mostly about me.

And Stubborn Facebook Friend posted a note on the board. Letting folks know, that it was not my birthday. Thereby splitting the difference. Between respecting my birthday boycott. And ensuring that I still got the attention I demand.

But this just really threw some folks off.

“Sooooo, it’s not her birthday? Are we just announcing that now? Or…what do we…what are we supposed to do with this?”

So they would come. And stand at my door. And try to assess the situation. And determine what their course of action should be.

And really. That was entertaining enough to satisfy my Leo.

But then there’s J-Vicious.

Yeah.

It’s been a minute, huh?

Because I’ve been trying to be responsible about the whole social distance thing.

And you might think that 2020’s one redeeming quality is that it has offered up the perfect excuse to just get all kinds of lazy. And stop going to the gym.

But y’all.

Do you understand what happens to you when you stop going to the gym? And then go back?

And I’ve been working out at home. Twice a day. And not just easy breezy workouts, either. Like, intense strength and HIIT cardio workouts.

But damn.

How was I still so unprepared. For the level of intense that PlayFITStayFIT brings?

And J-Vicious loves to celebrate birthdays.

Particularly in August. Because B-Major’s birthday is in August.

Which, for some reason, makes him extra evil mastermind-ish.

So, he promised to put together a workout that would allow me to be as socially distant as I wanted.

And because I had to keep running to the bathroom at work. To unbutton my pants. Just so I could oxygen. I said yes.

It was a moment of weakness.

“Just for reference, how old are you?”

Oh, I know where this shit goes.

And I had a full on debate in my brain. About how low of a number I could offer. And still be believable. But even the lower believable numbers were too high. And I had visions of manmakers running through my brain. And no number was low enough.

So in a moment of panic I said, 16?

“Times?”

Fuck. Fine. Plus 30.

And so this.

And because he’s the evil little minion that he is. He made me start with 20lb for my wall sit.

But everyone else gets to start at zero…?

But…

And here is where I decided to fully acknowledge my 2020 birthday for at least this one hour.

LL had just finished up the 4pm workout. And her beautiful brilliant children didn’t want to leave quite yet.

So she decided to stay. And do the workout again. With me.

And so obviously J-V. The trainer. The owner. The little evil mastermind. Had to do the workout again, too.

And he decided that they should pick up where the left off at the end of the 4pm workout.

And here is where my happiness lies.

Because even though pendulum lunges are a struggle for me on a good day. Let alone after 8 minutes of wall sitting with a 20lb ball.

Watching the pain of poor life choices written all over J-V’s face…

There are just these moments in life. When justice has been served. Karma has done her job. The universe perfectly aligns.

It was just…

Look, 2020 isn’t offering up a lot of justice right now. But he did good for that single hour last night.

It was so satisfying. Watching J-V’s legs struggle to maintain him. Under 80lbs of weight.

That I don’t even remember how far up in weight I got.

Maths might tell me I was up to 45lb at the end.

I do feel a little bad that LL got caught up in this twisted cycle.

But really, that’s on her kids. They made that choice for her.

I could almost see the life going out of her eyes. As she did her hamstring curls.

At one point, she let out a…I’m not even sure how to describe the sound…sort of a squeal of desperation? But a weak one. Because 92 minutes of weighted wall sit. And then she just slowly. Like, painfully slowly. Slid to the floor.

And here is where I talk about how angry my body is about returning to the gym after such a long absence.

And how my legs were so obnoxious that I just stood in my kitchen trying to calm them the hell down last night. As my dinner sat in front of me. And my kids chatted away.

Future Daughter In Law said, “Doooo you always stretch before meals, Sunshine?”

Don’t get smart.

Right now is just about survival.

And I need my legs to calm the fuck down more than I need food.

And I haven’t tried to actually use them yet this morning.

But I don’t even care what happens when I do finally get my ass out of bed.

Because all I can think is, damn I hope J-Vicious has to maneuver stairs today. A lot of them. And in front of people.

Y’all just don’t know. I mean, if you’re part of the PlayFITStayFIT family you do. But if you’re not.

You just don’t know how satisfying that picture is.

It will bring happiness to so many people.

So, I do appreciate y’all for being uncertain about how to manage my birthday boycott. And giving me food. And attention anyway. I’ve trained you well.

And I appreciate J-V ensuring that I could get a solid workout in while also keeping my distance from folks.

But mostly I appreciate the knowledge that somewhere. Out there. J-V is struggling to carry himself through the world. Like this.

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