I’m sitting on a bag of ice in my corporate housing and sipping some booze as I document a little of my week. We’ve had eight intense days of rehearsal in the un-air conditioned gymnasium of Hollywood Methodist Church. I’m falling in love, all over again, with this hilarious musical, Spamalot.
Among the stars are Jesse Tyler Ferguson, of Modern Family, (who’s hysterically dry) and Christian Slater. Yes. Christian Slater. He’s infectiously playful with a perma-grin…just a guy who can’t believe he’s being paid to screw around on stage in a Monty Python sketch/musical.
And then there’s Warwick Davis.
Now. I’m a terrible celeb keeper-upper. I knew he looked familiar, but I was like….”yeah, yeah, yeah. The little person who’s done a bunch of stuff, but who isn’t Peter Dinklage of Game of Thrones.”
Then, one of my cast members tells me, “Yeah, but Gavin…not only was he in the Harry Potter movies, he was also in Star Wars.”
Y’all: this child-of-the-80’s is soon to be tap-dancing alongside Wicket Fucking Warrior. Like: no shit.
I also tripped over him, accidentally, today. Mortifying. I imagine it’s not the first time. I stepped on his foot before looking down and realizing he was there. He shouted, “Ah!! My dancing career is over.”
I quickly shouted, “Understudy?”
He responded, “Thanks. I’ll pay you later.”
I tripped over Wicket Warrior.
Now, I’m sitting on my ice bag. Which brings me to the point of this diary entry…I mean blog posting.
I’m ashamed to say I used to scoff at people older than me who complained about aches and pains and needing to take pills and ice baths.
But folks, pass the pain-killers.
Admittedly, I’m training for the NYC marathon and ran a bunch of miles on a treadmill, the other night, which does no one any favors.
But after four days of constant dancing as a Knight of the Round Table and a little bit of running, my laundry list of acute pain includes: my right achiles, my left hamstring, hip sockets, the bottoms of both feet, my right shoulder, and my entire lower back.
I have never felt so many (thankfully manageable) aches and pains.
I’ve totally become one of “those” people.
The old, I suppose.
Admittedly, I’ve never done a great job icing and stretching and rolling out. But this is just ridiculous.
I guess it happens to the best of us, eh?…becoming our parents who seem to complain constantly about their bodies?
Lord, let these aches go away when I’m not dancing to Monty Python ditties.
And Lord?, please don’t let me trip over Wicket Warrior, again.