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Em-PHA-sis on the Wrong Syl-LABLE

Posted Aug 06 2008 4:04am


You say po-tay-to, I say Po-ta-to. You say to-may-to, I say to-ma-to. (Boy, phonetic writing is difficult). In our house we call this putting the Em-PHA-sis on the wrong Syl-LABLE when talking (it works better if you say it out loud). Here are a few examples. I say: TOILET paper and the hubby calls it: toilet PAPER. Or I call it: Paper TOWEL and he refers to the roll on the counter as PAPER towel. I watch a T-VEE while he watches a TEE-V. When we’re watching whatever it’s called, I’m watching George LO-pez, but he’s watching George Lo-PEZ. 

If you’ve been following my symptom and exercise journal, you were sure to notice that I’ve been walking regularly. I walk because I still can. I walk to develop strength. I walk because I think standing still will be easier if I shed a number of pounds. I walk to reduce stress. I’ve been hitting just over a mile or so on my lunch hours at work and last week I decided to try to start walking at home in the evenings as well; double-dipping per se.

I can get in 1.3 miles if I walk from my house to the corner, and back again, twice. Combined with the walks at lunch and I’m close to 2.5 miles a day. Not bad for now. 

So, I’m walking the other evening, on the first jaunt to the corner and I became tired right away. There is a slight incline just past my house (a treat on the way back, but a bear on the way to the corner). I almost gave up. The hubby didn’t know I had set out to walk, so I could have turned around and walked right back home, no one the wiser. Instead I pushed on. In my head, I began to say:

“I will not let my legs give out on me!” Then I put a spin on it, saying, “I will NOT let my legs give out on me!” I giggled, “I WILL not let my legs give out on me,” and then, “I will not LET my legs give out on me!

By this time I realized the phrase was no longer in my head, I was into a quiet chant. “I will not let MY legs give out on me!”Darn it! They are MY legs and no one else’s. “I will not let my LEGS give out on me!” I have control over my extremities for Pete’s sake. (Who is Pete anyway?). And the chant continued all the way through variations on the emphasis of the words of the sentence.

Before I knew it, I was already back at my driveway, half-done, and ready to make it up that slight incline once again. I felt strong and powerful. I felt in control. Of course I felt a little nuts, too. I may live in the country, but there are still people all around. If anyone had looked out their windows they would have been gossiping about me all the way to the grocery store. “There’s that girl on the billboard. Do you know she walks around the neighborhood shouting at herself?”

I realized that I had been entertaining myself throughout the chanting process. It took my mind off my burning legs and off of the distance yet to be covered. My new solution? I now borrow the hubby’s Ipod, plug those ear buds into my ears and sing my way up and back a couple of times. Then, if I throw in a few syllabic chants for good measure, folks just think I’m singing!

I WILL not get locked up in the looney-bin.

I will NOT get locked up in the looney-bin.

I will not get LOCKED UP in the looney bin.

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