Way back in the early ‘80s when I was a college athlete, I recall my coach using the phrase “women weaken legs”! I am sure that it was before a big game, or an early heads up to the incoming freshman athletes. While I can’t recall the specific scenario, it is now almost 30 years later, and yet I still remember the phrase.
The expression raises many interesting questions ….
For example, is there scientific evidence to back this claim??
Are there certain sexual acts that are more prone to the weakening effect? How important is the “women” in this act (if you know what we mean)?
Maybe, more importantly, who were the lucky athletes who were involved in this study?? … “ok, go have sex for an hour and then we need you to run two miles” ….
How about the poor guys that were psyched to be involved in the study, only to find out that were in the “no sex” group??
If there is any evidence that “women weaken legs”, then does the reciprocal apply? Do “Men Weaken Legs” as well?? Any female athletes have some input on this one?
So, what do you think (or know)??? Do you have any first hand stories to share? Any medical professionals want to chime in (thinking that some doctor probably got a federal grant to check into this)?
This year, I’m a proud sponsor of the Good For Her Feminist Porn Awards! To be exact, “better than chocolate” will be featured at the dessert buffet as we are the Diamond Hospitality Sponsor! Sweet Pleasures is our business, how good is that? 
Today didn’t go so well. I had to call them to come back because I felt so unwell. They were over an hour away from home at the time, and they missed my first phone call. Apparently I sound drugged today, that doesn’t particularly surprise me, that’s precisely how I feel. I don’t really remember what was said on the phone, apart from that they were coming back and not to leave the key in the door. I have been lying down or asleep for the most part of today, I don’t seem to be able to stay awake for long enough to complete anything worth doing or do anything at all productive.
It hit me last night that no matter what I do I will always be sick. Hospital and doctors trips have become the norm. I’m familiar with the inside of ambulances and the hospital staff now. I am afraid of getting worse, my heart failing on me and my lungs deciding enough is enough. I am afraid of my immune system admitting defeat. I cannot pretend that I am not afraid when I have to keep going back to clinics, or to see my surgeon, or for testing. This is not the way I meant my life to be. I would honestly do anything to stay healthy for a whole year, although I know it’s unobtainable, I am willing to try. I was having horrific flashbacks to hospital last year, when they asked if I tried to kill myself, when my blood results came back, when they told me there was something wrong with my heart. All of the terrifying memories you wish could stay restricted within the ward, restrained to the bed and unable to inflict harm upon themselves or another human being. Part of me wishes that I could have ended it all back then, part of me is still spending hours on end contemplating the best methods of suicide with the highest mortality rates. I guess what I should be saying is that I do not want people holding onto me any more, or asking me why I feel this way. I just want to become invisible and fade into the background. I never asked to be born, and I never wanted my life to turn out like this. I am so sorry.
I pray that tomorrow I feel a little better, or the antidepressants start to work, or everything begins to lift, because if it doesn’t I honestly do not know what I am going to do with myself. Nothing seems to be doing anything apart from getting worse, and hurting me more. I guess that tomorrow is a whole new day, but I am always making judgements about the future by looking at the past. As today hasn’t been a good day, why should tomorrow be any better? I mean, sure. If I keep doing/feeling the same thing I will keep getting the same thing, but I just don’t have the energy to make any changes.
She is really playing with my head, I do not know why. She makes me want to turn around and say, “Hey, your ex boyfriend did more with me than he will ever do with you. Grow up and fix your priorities, you’re not getting him back. How dare you point such accusations at me.” You’re turning me into the whore, as always. I will not stoop down to your level, he deserves so much better than you, he always did and he always will. I wish I could erase you from my life completely, I never want to hear another word from you. I do not care what your turn ons and turn offs are, I do not care what you did with him back in ‘09. That’s old news. Grow up and learn that sleeping around will now earn you respect. Don’t even think about pulling me down with you. I have my reasoning for what I have done. Get out of my life, and his life.
As is evident from the above, Reve combines the high rhetoric of the Bible with the banal and carnal, using capital letters in an ironic manner.”
