Sass Squat

How many squats is each person allotted to do in their lifetime? A bajillion? Whatever the number, I know I must be over the amount from the sheer volume of them that I have to do at physio. Since I’m over my quota, life has obviously decided to exact its revenge on me. That must be the reason it hurts so much the day after I do them...

A day after physio squats, sitting on the toilet is such an adventure, that all I can do is stand in front of it, aim my butt for the seat, and free fall, hoping for the best. I start to wonder why couches aren’t made, you know, taller. When I walk around, I know I look exactly like Wile E Coyote after an anvil has been dropped on his head and he has turned into an accordion, but I have only one fold, and it is in my middle, from oversquatting. If I listen carefully, I think I can hear my muscles make that strained, wheezy, accordion sound.

Hmm...wait- which part of soccer involves the squat, exactly? I’ve been playing for 30 years or so, and I don’t remember soccer involving squats at all. Is this just some elaborate ruse? Perhaps it is preparing me for nothing more than a rousing game of musical chairs. Is my physiotherapist snickering at me behind my back? Let’s see if I can make her do more!

You know what? Even if I find out it is just for musical chairs, I am still going to kick someone’s ass at it. It could be yours. Watch out.