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Sunday, April 10, 2011

Stumble Trip

Alternately titled: Why I Shouldn't Work Out

Or: Reason I Deserve a Big Mac


Last week I jumped on the work out bandwagon.
Actually, I just sort of strolled onto the bandwagon because,
let's be honest I don't run or jump anywhere.

On Day 1, I did my stair routine.
The one where I walk up and down my stairs fifty times.
It was a great workout physically, but also great for my productivity.

By about the 10th flight, I was needing a break
so I decided to multi-task.

Wash a bottle.
Climb three flights of stairs.

Hang some clothes.
Climb three flights of stairs.

Take out the trash.
Climb three flights of stairs (including an armful of toys).

By the end of the workout, the house was spotless
and I was dripping with sweat. I felt productive and accomplished...
until the next day when I literally
COULD. NOT. WALK. without looking like a hobbling fool.

And the next day. And the next day. And the following seven days.

So ten days later, when my calves had finally healed,
I set out to attempt another workout.
This time I was going to run/walk 2.5 miles.

Walk a minute, run a minute.
(Can I just say that time seems to stand still during the running periods?)

All was well until the 1.8 mile mark. 

 I was in my "running" phase.

Bright red.

Dripping in sweat.

Daydreaming about my future size 4 body,
while still maintaining my incredible 18 minute mile pace.

I looked down at my watch for the 45th time during one of the
longest minutes of my life when it happened.

In my haste lack of oxygen induced fog,
my right foot hit an uneven spot on the trail
and sent me soaring through the air.

I was air born and there was not a chance to recover.
In slow motion I watched my hands shred across the pavement
like I was sliding into home plate.

Except, instead of scoring the game winning point, I cried.
Then, through tears, I laughed at myself.
Who Falls? I thought.

I tried to play it cool when a car drove by
Like I was just looking for roly-polies or something.

Then I stood up and hyperventilated 
as I struggled to catch my breath.
I thought I broke my thumb.

I hobbled home feeling sorry for myself
every step of the way.

And that reinforces why I hate working out. 

7 comments:

Dan.Eliot said...
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
Kim said...

if you're doing C25K...you should download some podcasts. much better then trying to track it yourself on a watch. i gave up when doing it with a watch. the podcasts helped A LOT!

http://gonicoleyourself.blogspot.com/2008/06/couch-to-5k-podcast-page.html

Betty said...

Ouch. That looks like it hurts. I think it warrants a Mac Book,a new Coach purse or just extra NYC spending money!

Matt Stadler said...

OUCH! i love how you "played it cool" by looking for rolly pollies... just like most adults sans kids do on an obscure sidewalk miles from home.

Mica said...

That's it! I'm done working out - for you! It's just not safe anymore!

Cracking up! The injury does look severe though. You should see if it qualifies for short-term disability.

Grandma Lyle said...

Now I know why I don't go far from my couch. Hope your wounds are healed and glad they weren't worse.

Anonymous said...

Don't you HATE it when you hurt yourself and you're crying and no one's around. It's like you're glad no one's there to have witnessed it, but at the same time you're like, "what's the point of crying???" I always feel like an idiot. Not that I ever do that or anything.....
~Kristie

P.S. notice how I'm the only dork who still has to sign is as anonymous!