Circa April... was the HUGE company picnic. Mom came to get sick on cotton candy, popcorn and coke... grams came so i could beat her at basketball... (the pic they sent me of her is precious. for privacy reasons I am not posting. email me... I'll show you how cute she is)...
and i got put on a volley ball team for the tournament. because from weight training and swimming... i have the girl equivalent to guns. (these are so going away! people notice and i am getting self conscious. the definition is not bad... but I'm getting hit on by lesbians... it's kind of scary) thus i look like an athlete. SURELY i know what to do with a volley.
Thing is, i do not.
I have not touched a volley ball since like 6th grade. I did ballet. I did dance team. I didn't have to DO P.E. with the ruffians. ick.
so i got put on a team that has to play against the COO and his kids. Oh there is some good news there. Get ready for the good ol' college try. the boys on my team were SERIOUS about this. I'm not sure why i was there. The ball would come at me an in true girl form... i ran in the opposite direction in my pink shorts while the boys tried to kill the ball. it was madness...
until i tried to hit the ball. and the last 3 fingers on my right hand began to swell. it was so painful. now my pinkie is still deformed. You think i am kidding... i am not.
Mom's sage medical advice? "Honey stick your hand in a cup of ice... and don't be such a woose" yay mom. at least she made the sad face as she said it and brought me juice :)
hence we begot fat finger... on to the sequel...
2 weeks ago running suicide sprints... on a soccer field... with p-day and the real athletes he trains. football, soccer, track... the BOYS. I was working on my run times and intervals... i can use this.
one of the girls passed out from heat exhaustion... and my heat tried to pretend not to notice... her friends helped her up. the paramedics put her in a tent. the workout proceeded. In a case like that... unless you know the person LEAVE THEM ALONE. i'm sure she was just mortified. I know I would be.
How do I know? Because shortly thereafter, I was. (that's what she said).
Next set of sprints. run, turn at cone, run back, turn at further cone, run back, turn at... ok you get the drill.
except on the turn, i turned awkwardly and felt myself going down... i put my right arm behind me to catch myself... and felt my wrist pop.
I don't know what it says about me that i was MORTIFIED and EMBARRASSED because i fell in front of GOD AND EVERYBODY before I realized I was in pain.
I immediately tried to stand up but could not put pressure on my right hand. P-day scooped me up like a 2 year old which only made me hyper ventilate worse. It was so retarded. and I couldn't stop it.
My heat is around me and the boys have the frozen death stare and whisper "please don't cry, please don't cry" and i grit my teeth and say "I DO NOT CRY"
to which P-day is concerned and says "ok, don't cry... please breath because you are scaring me".
for my efforts i had a wrist and arm that were incredibly painful and required ice. i couldn't do anything because i only had one hand and even through ice, celebrex and lots of ibuprofen my hand screamed at the slightest movement.
obviously it is a lot better now. hence i am typing. it is funnier now.. but the whole thing has knocked me back weeks of training.
did i mention my 1st tri is this Saturday (yeah, THERE is some good news) and the whole damn thing has cost me so much money, i have to do it at this point.
i'm not ready, and i hate the way i look. that is vain. or maybe it just looks that way.
worst part? roommate bought me a mountain bike and put his $700 road bike at my disposal. i should probably get familiar with the damn thing, since i'm gonna do 12 miles on it.
rat bastard.
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