Last night was my 90-minute deep tissue massage, my first in nine months. And all I can say is, lactic acid is a big, bad bitch. I'm sitting here shivering with an icepack on one shoulder blade, wondering when I should shift it to the other shoulder blade. I went to sleep with the icepack across my throbbing pecs.
I booked another session for two weeks from tonight. It's going to take a while to get my muscles back in working order.
In the meantime, Amanda is doing great. Her little babies are beautiful. Gwen (the girl) is a miracle baby, doing much better than some of the doctors expected. Last May Amanda wasn't sure both twins would survive the birth, but little Gwen is going strong, despite much medical drama. As usual, the experience has only strengthened Amanda's considerble faith. She's one of the world's special people (who just happens to have fingers of steel).
The good news is, my right arm definitely has better range of motion today. This has given me hope that if I can stand the pain, I can be back to playing tennis by June!
And the pain should be an inspiration for some '3:10 to Yuma' fanfic; I worked on part 3 of 'Stubborn' a little last week . . . I might actually finish it. Speaking of fanfic, did I ever mention I won that wayne_stark challenge? It was by a ridiculously low vote, and I screwed up by voting for myself (I guess we weren't supposed to . . . don't tell Obama he should have voted for McCain/Palin!), but the moderator assured me I was the winner. Since I don't really believe in the win/lose concept in fanfic challenges, I couldn't exactly jump for joy. Actually, at the moment I can't even shrug it off. It hurts too bad.