{"id":537,"date":"2026-02-23T16:08:58","date_gmt":"2026-02-23T16:08:58","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/dianaludwick.com\/?p=537"},"modified":"2026-03-14T15:55:56","modified_gmt":"2026-03-14T15:55:56","slug":"skip","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/dianaludwick.com\/?p=537","title":{"rendered":"Skip"},"content":{"rendered":"\n
Never Miss a Monday! <\/em>
She beams.
I text my workout friend
\"Oh Boy!\" while I side eye 
my virtual instructor 
who bounces coyly
-- well not so much -- 
on my treadmill screen.
OK let's do<\/em> this! I say 
feigning enthusiasm
in my neon tiger print kit
smiling with my lips
if not yet my eyes.

Because it's a Monday,
after all
and I'm snowed in
with my kid
yet another 
No School Day
these kids are going 
to be in school 
until July at this rate.
I clock my instructor's
bright orange sports bra--
hey she matches me!--
and her iridescent glitter
and her high pony braid
I ease into her party: 
\"Fiiiiiine<\/em> I can do this vibe\" 
I say, relenting to the screen.

Roll the speed knob
forward to 3.1 MPH
and incline up to 2.0. percent.
OK let's shimmy it out! <\/em>
She says.
I smirk, \"Shimmy??\" OK.
I wiggle my shoulders
raise and drop my arms
a true smile creeps
into my eyes too
this is starting to feel fun.

OK! She continues.
Drop the speed to 1-2.0 <\/em>
and let's MARCH!<\/em>
March? OK here we go:
1, 2, 1, 2, 1, 2--<\/em>

Now.<\/em>..SKIP!<\/em>
Oooh skipping! How camp! 
I haven't skipped in ages! 
1---2---pop<\/em>--
OOOOOOH.<\/em>
An IED detonated 
in my gastrocnemius.

Oh GOD am I this OLD??
I exclaim to the basement.
Come'mon Di, Walk it out
you got this -- 
don't quit now --
OK let's get into our RUN! <\/em>
She beckons.<\/em>
Sorry Jess King
that's a No for me, Queen.

Keep walking, with a limp
pick up phone, open browser: 
What does Dr. Google say? 
\"Assess the severity of your strain--\"
\"Level 1 - minor inconvenience\" -- 
OK sooooooooo the pain
Is certainly more than 'minor.' 
Daaaaang. I read on:
\"Level 2 -- significant tearing -- 
minimum 4 weeks recovery\"
Oooh that sounds bad
I better walk slower.
Roll the knob back to 1.7MPH.

Call my husband, Speed Dial 1
He's at work but regardless
answers me on first ring anyway.
I grimace as I sheepishly explain
the I Love Lucy<\/em>-esque 
mishap of my own making. 
\"Take it slow Babe, walk gently.\"
\"Yeah Yeah, I'll try\" I reply. Click.

Seven painful minutes later
I take to more Googling.
\"For level 2 strains and higher:
STOP IMMEDIATELY<\/em>\"
\"Not in five minutes.
NOW<\/em>. GET OFF THE MACHINE.\"
OK OK geez! 

I slow the Tread to a stop
drop my good leg to the floor.
Then try to move my bum one.
Oh my God 
I am really screwed.
This is agony.

Have the presence of mind
to hobble to the chest freezer
in the mechanical room 
to grab my husband's ice wrap.
Manage to make it up the
flight of stairs to ground floor.
Heave myself to nearest couch
Ugh<\/em> this is going to be terrible.
Call out for pre-teen
to come save me.
\"Please! Please come!
Bring me an ACE bandage!
And Advil! Please quickly!
And pillows!\"
I hear her eye-roll 
from across the house
it's almost as loud 
as was the pop in my leg.
\"UGH WHY<\/em> MOM!!!\"
\"Please please just help me.\"

By now, my neighbor and
synchronous workout buddy
has noticed my stalled metrics
and abrupt departure. 
She texts: 
OMG U OK?
Need me to come over to help?
My husband shoveled the drive!<\/em>
I so appreciate her and yet--
how embarrassing! How awful.
To be visibly broken - to need help.
No no, untenable. 

I send her a snap of my injury
with a goofy half-smile emoji
and a crying-face one for balance.
\"I'm fine I'm fine, kiddo will help me.\"
I want to spare my friend
the inconvenience and obligation.
She deserves to finish the class.
\"OK, I'm jogging in your honor!\" 
I feel that love come through to me.

My child arrives at last
clutching a beige roll: \"Is this<\/em> it?\"
She scrunches her face, uncertain.
Yes, yes!
She learns on the spot
how to wrap me, well sort of.
\"It needs to be compressive<\/em>\"
I coach
\"...and this... is too... loose.\"
\"Whatever Mom! I got this.\" 
I sigh slowly, quietly. 
Soothing mental mantra time:
I am grateful. I am grateful.<\/em>

Next on goes the lumpy
velcro ice pack -- 
It's too floppy, love--
No it's NOT<\/em>!--
And she helps me heave
my orange Lyrca-ed leg
onto a stack of velvet pillows.
I'm having a privileged problem<\/em>
I contextualize, internally.

She ambivalently covers me
with a sherpa and fleece blanket
finds a bottle of ibuprofen: 
\"This one's not open yet--\"
\"I don't CARE, LOVE....\"
She hands me two 
rusty orange pills
I swig from my workout bottle
and groan 
\"Ooph, thanks hun.\"
She scurries off before
I can hurl further asks her way.

How did I get here? 
I'm just forty-two
Why am I so decrepit? 
When did this happen?
Who knew I'd skip like a CD 
and not a kindergartener.

What I'm facing for recovery
is not yet clear but what is:
in my Monday of mayhem
I know that I am cared for
on this snowy icy day 
with my iced pulled leg 
and my haughty head.




<\/pre>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
\u201cSkip,\u201d a reflection on aging, humility, humor and the over-ambitions of a 40-something trying to return to an exercise routine. Written February 23, poem 054 in a series of 365 poems written by Diana Ludwick in 2026. Photo: “Elevated Leg Deflated Ego,” by Diana Ludwick (c) 2026.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":545,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[7,200,2],"tags":[203,202,38,57,195,201,9,198,196,10,204,199,197,70],"class_list":["post-537","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-2026-poetry-challenge","category-humor","category-poems","tag-40-somethings","tag-aging","tag-community","tag-february","tag-fitness","tag-humility","tag-humor","tag-impatience","tag-injury","tag-parenting","tag-sadlarious","tag-skipping","tag-sprain","tag-women"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/dianaludwick.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/537","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/dianaludwick.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/dianaludwick.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/dianaludwick.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/dianaludwick.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=537"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"https:\/\/dianaludwick.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/537\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":703,"href":"https:\/\/dianaludwick.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/537\/revisions\/703"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/dianaludwick.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/545"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/dianaludwick.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=537"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/dianaludwick.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=537"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/dianaludwick.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=537"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}