We opened WAIKIKI ANGELS this week, ready or not, and I don't remember ever feeling this beat up by the show. Sure, I'm working a full time job with some nIghttime meetings in addition to rehearsing and performing, but Cripes, this is bad. I'm exhausted and looked forward to sleeping in today, but I was up most of the night with what felt like a steady stream of lava flowing through my throat, stomach and intestines. What could I have eaten? So here I am, caverned off in my apartment, grateful that I don't have to leave until 6:30 tonight. I'm drinking a bunch of Kava tea to settle my stomach and I'm not sure what I should eat for lunch, if anything. I'm having a blast doing the show, but my body doesn't feel the way it did when we started doing this 13 years ago.
Also, I didn't lose any weight, so our hunk, Duke, is still tasked with lifting this earthbound angel. As a Gay of A Certain Age, I'm realizing that as much as I heard it over and over again that my body is my instrument and I should keep it in shape to perform as it needs to, I don't think I ever really paid much attention to that. I guess I was thinking as long as I have my wits, I'll be alright. Well, my wits haven't stopped me from feeling like I have been hit by a truck. So as I rest today (2 shows tomorrow) I will contemplate at least stretching before tonight's performance.
P.S. I did end up removing my chest hair :-(