Agony
There are scarce few more dire thoughts than the realization that I actually paid a substantial amount of money in order to be in the copious amounts of muscular pain that I am currently in. As a result of aforementioned 17km climb, I am In Agony. Oh, the pain. This is my current state of affairs:
Bending my legs while walking is not an option. This results in a monumentally spastic form of walking involving a semi-permanent mask of excruciating pain etched upon my face.
I am being overtaken by quadriplegics.
Jaywalking is becoming increasingly less of a crime (I am in Singapore) and more of a crazed death-defying gauntlet, since running nimbly across the road is no longer an option for my tortured quadriceps (the two main preventive factors being "running" and "nimbly").
I no longer have complete motor control of my knees, and they insist on sporadically buckling, often in rather awkward circumstance, e.g. in the middle of the road (see above paragraph).
Out of sheer desperation and agony, my sister (who shares my pain) and I are using bathroom facilities for handicapped individuals. Handrailings are useful inventions.
I cannot sit down or stand up without an involuntary exclamation of pain (normally manifesting itself in the words "ow" or "f**k", and more usually the latter).
Uncrossing my legs needs to be done manually, by hand.
Pigeons sympathize with me. They must do, for they laid their little white blessings on our car all the way down to Singapore. Damned creatures.
I almost cry when I see staircases.
And so, the said full account of my trip, as promised yesterday, will be delivered duly at some point early next week along with photographs, when I get back from Singapore and have recovered from abovementioned amounts of pain. Right now, I am headed for a nice dinner, a long soak in a very hot bath, and a very long sleep in a divine hotel bed. Envy me.
Or possibly not, if you had even the most infinitesimal inkling of my agony.