I came home from NY with one clear decision made. The next trade show I have to do is in Anaheim, CA for 5 days in January. It will be big, loud and exhausting. I'm going to rent a scooter.
This probably seems like a relative no brainer, since I came home from NY unable to do anything but crawl from the couch to the kitchen to the bedroom. But let me reiterate. I am going to rent a scooter.
This will mean I am disabled. Officially validated. Confirmed. Staggering around Manhattan like a drunken crab didn't mean I was disabled...I was just tired... jet lagged... had a long day at the convention. Saving my energy however, by renting a scooter means I am a disabled person. Yikes.
I called my sister Lisa to discuss. She was supposed to be headed to NYC next week to run a marathon; but filled me in that she had torn the meniscus in one of her knees. Ouch! So no running for her for a while. No weight on it really at all for a while. Wow! Does this mean my strong, vibrant, fit sister is disabled?
She is pretty down about it. Her knees are kind of going bad on her, and she's freaking out a little. All of a sudden renting a scooter didn't seem so daunting. If my amazing, athletic sister might need a walking device, then maybe it's ok if I do too. I'm giving up walking like a gimp, but she's giving up running 26.2 miles. I'm never going to run that race, but hopefully, she will be back out there inspiring me to always go that one extra mile.