In the spirit of my "wishes" post, I added a new class this semester.
Hello, archery! Of the recurve bow variety. I look exactly like this:
This activity has added an new and unexpected dimension to my day. As in, when I get up in the morning and I go to wash my hair, my arms talk to me. Quite clearly. They say, "um, no." and refuse to make it up to my head. And after I clear that little hurdle, my back chimes in. "Oh, that bookbag of yours on the floor? Yeah, it wants to stay there. It's too far of a distance to lift to your shoulder," says my helpful back. And now that I am irritated that the bookbag is in cahoots with my muscles, I realize that my coffee is also in on the game. It has relocated itself to the top shelf, which requires both arm and back muscles to stretch to reach.
At this point I cry foul, and leave for lab with wet hair, my bookbag carried at the level of my knees, and without my usual caffiene buzz. The whole kaboodle is modifying my normal routine a little bit, but really what's a few more voices talking to me amongst the usual complement in my head? :)
I was really excited to get into the class, because I was only on the waitlist. The teacher asked us the first day if we were right- or left-handed, and I (as usual) had to cause problems by saying I am both. This is true - I write left-handed, but play sports and do most other things right-handed. I wasn't sure which applied.
So I did the whole first class using a right-handed bow. When we were practicing how to draw, I suddenly realized quite clearly that I was not, in fact, right-handed. In hind sight this should have been obvious because (in spite of the fact I do most things right-handed) I do, you know, write with the left hand. That's kinda the definition of left-handed. Once again, my arms piped up to help me with this concept. "Wrong hand! wrong hand!" they yelled. I felt all discombobulated, I kept sighting out of the wrong eye, and my weaker arm was forced to be the draw arm.
So I had to cause problems yet again and ask for a left-handed bow in the next class. The result being, as I said, both halves of my body are equally unhappy.
But I am looking forward to improving. And, not only is this something I have always wanted to try, but it is also a new adventure in extra-curricular activities (see helpful comments on the state of friends in my life). In fact, my new partner Michael for the class is assigned to help me string my bow at the beginning of each session. I let him and his gorgeous smile help me more than I needed the first day of class...
But next class, I may not be pretending. I think my arms are planning a coup... I've kept this a secret from my back, but it has intelligence everywhere.