You know, I probably need to bring it down a notch in my life when it isn’t odd to me at all that I have ridiculous injuries. Groin pull here, bad knee there. Frozen shoulder here, torn labrum there. I’m like Frankenstein but I never get any new parts. One might think that these random injuries might slow me down or encourage me to just cut it out, but no, I won’t.
How did I get to today’s pain? Well, let me tell you. I have an OmGym (yoga swing) that hangs in my workout dungeon. About a week and a half ago, I was in it and I created some (unnecessary) pressure on my lower abdomen. A day or so after that, I felt that area tightening up. For the next week or so, I was just careful while sneezing since it was only a little bit uncomfortable. Fast forward to yesterday when, like the genius that I am, I went to the trapeze.
First swing was just a hang because that’s how I roll. Second swing I went whole hog, trying to gain some height. No problem and so far so good. Typically, when I go to the rig, I’m a three swing girl and then I pull lines. Third swing I threw a pretty strong layout. Now, what in the world possessed me to get up on the board again?!?! I don’t know. I should have sat my happy ass down. But I didn’t.
Fourth swing went like this: sweep, force up and out, swe…AAAAAAARGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHOOOOOOMYGAAWWWWWDIT HUUUUUURTSSSSS! Slam. In layman’s terms, at the front of my swing is when my abs/obliques decided to give way. Think of it like this: If you had a bendy straw implanted in your side and stretched your just got out of bed morning stretch, it would be the equivalent of someone expanding that straw and twisting it and then pouring searing white hot pain in the straw. At this point, I am hanging from the bar (no lines) and I can’t lift my legs because of the pain in my side and physics. I have completely forgotten about everything that I am supposed to do in the air at this point, and so, I now slam into the perch with the back of my left leg. It sounded worse than it was and a day later it’s sore but not bruised, so that’s a bonus. As you may (or may not) know, a swing takes all of about 5 seconds, if that. From the time that I shredded my guts to hitting the board to hitting the net probably took those 5 seconds. It felt like 10 minutes.
Needless to say, that ended my trapeze day. I packed it up and headed home to wallow in my own tears. Gingerly.
First item of business: figure out how to sit/lay comfortably. Flat on the floor worked for a little while but not long. Couldn’t get comfortable in any seated position. Weeeeeee! As soon as I would find something comfortable, I’d have to get up to pee. FML, you know? This goes on for hours.
Once, I stupidly twisted to one side or the other which damn near killed me. I don’t know that I’ve ever passed out in my life (I’ve blacked out 2 or 3 times but that’s a whole different neurological issue.), but from what I’ve heard about it, I think I was close. The whole room got steaming hot. I starting sweating like Smokey in the pigeon coop. My ears started buzzing/ringing. And I thought that lunch was gonna make a return visit. Holy hell. Mind over body! Mind over body! Man up! So I sat on the edge of the bed and fanned myself with my hand until my impending death decided to select another date and time. Made it.
I was nervous about moving around in my sleep, but my hubby said that I never move around very much while sleeping. Not what my Fitbit says, but ok. It actually says that I was awake twice and restless seven times and that’s a pretty good night for me. Also, I didn’t wake up screaming in the middle of the night because I tried to stretch or anything whilst lying down. Hooray!
Kinesio tape – it’s a lifesaver. I swear it’s all that’s holding me together right now and I love it dearly. I may or may not have it applied 100% correctly, but I think it’s close enough that I’m not cringing with every movement. I’m hopeful that I’ll be able to take it off on Saturday and still pose for pictures (because people ask me to do these things even after the first time out when I was a nightmare to try to shoot – must remember to have a shot first to chill the hell out) while leaning on cars and whatnot.
Eventually, I’ll start writing again with better form where things have a beginning, middle, and end, but for now, it’s stream of consciousness. Which is pretty much how I talk so if we talk on any sort of regular basis, you probably follow along with this just fine. If not, we should talk more often. See ya next time.
This or that? This or that? The choice is mine.
For the last several Mondays, I’ve opened my closet and thought to myself, “Dammit! I didn’t get any shirts for work again!” And then I’d throw on something in my minimal rotation of appropriate work-wear. Last week, I started getting crafty and wearing shirts that weren’t exactly work-appropriate, but they weren’t bad enough that anyone would say anything. You know, because a cute sweater over anything makes it good to go, right?
Every time I have this conversation with myself, I sigh aloud and wish that I could just wear yoga pants. Then I consider a career in fitness. Then I eat cookies. That’s why I don’t have a career in fitness. I mean, I could, but starting fresh, it would take forever (and I might not even get there) to get back to making what I make now. And you know, car payments and rent and junk. Never, however, did I give up on my yoga pants dream.
Well then, what do you know? It looks like those yoga pants dreams are about to come true. It looks exactly like I’m about to have a new position. One that’s 100% (ok, maybe 99.2%) remote. Did I take a little pay cut? Yeah, but is it worth it? Hellz to the yeah. New learning and growth opportunities abound in the new position and I’m excited, yet scared and nervous all at the same time. I really and truly feel bad about leaving my current position. But it’s been rare (I’m looking at you job on Miami Beach and one in downtown Denver!) that I’ve been excited, nay, thrilled to give a two week notice. One other time, I actually cried. Those people were just the tits though. I love the BH family. This time, I’m torn.
There are many more positives than negatives in regards to my moving on, but I will certainly miss a handful of these folks. It’s weird to put myself in the category of ‘those who have fallen by the wayside’. But, being in that category gives me much more time to keep the house clean, to cook fun stuff, and to work on my flexibility because no one cares if I’m at home on the floor in a straddle stretch. In the office, I’m gonna get some side eye and possibly a reprimand for sure.
So, it’s a new and exciting adventure upon which I’m about to embark. Why not, right? New house, new job. Who knows what else might pop up. Besides a sexy new computer desk that I was eyeballing and now have a perfectly good reason to purchase. It’s going to be tough the first month or so, I’m sure of that. But I’m also sure that I can handle it. Do you know why?
Because I’m good enough, I’m smart enough, and gosh darn it, people like me!
Writing. Writing….is what brings us…togever…..today. Today, on this Monday morning. Where I woke up feeling and looking like I had partied like it was 1999. All I really did was watch my Battling Buccos come from behind (again), take the Cards to extra innings (again) and win it in walk-off fashion (again!!) to win the series and go into the All Star break only 2.5 games behind those dirty birds. And as a sidebar, the Black and Yellow seems to have to battle a lot of dirty birds (Cardinals, Ravens, Tom Brady).
Office life: On this oh so rough morning, all I wanted was to heat up my breakfast sandwich. However, someone chose to break the paper towel dispenser. Rummaging through drawers turned up nothing. So, Macgyver to the rescue, I’ll just use a coffee filter. And then as I typed this, I splashed coffee all over my face. After I threw away my coffee filter napkin and before noticing that someone took my last tissue from my desk and left an empty box. Splashed again. Is it 5 yet? Or even 4:30?
Yesterday wasn’t just the thrilling stress of baseball. It was also the culmination of a couple months of rehearsals and questions and heels and rehearsals and questions and heels(!) also known as the summer recital for L’Ru Studios. For the longest time, I’ve wanted to do some pole-related Cell Block type activities and, with the help of five of my lovely studiomates, I was able to make that dream a reality. There won’t be video for a little while, and when there is, I’ll post it, but I think it went off pretty well. I gave up my Squish role for one of Lipschitz and, I am pretty sure that everyone had a good time. I also played around with a soloroutine to ‘Miserable’ by Lit where I attempted to be sexy. The verdict is still out on that one. The routine was clean and I didn’t blank out on anything though, so I’ll call it a win either way.
Sooo, also of note, we moved. After nearly five years of renting in Westminster, we moved down the road a bit to Arvada. Not because we wanted to, but because the homeowners decided to move back. The major point I’m taking away from this move is that, when we move back to Florida in about 3 years, I am hiring a moving service. No way am I packing up an entire house for a third time. It is just too much.
Moving is such a purging opportunity. My goodness. Between the amount of electronics that we took to Best Buy for free recycling, what we gave to Goodwill when the truck was across the street, and then what we gave them on other trips after more cleaning probably should be a mega tax writeoff, but who really has time for that? Not me. I just wanted it GONE! Just thinking about what else is going to have to go between now and the next move makes me cringe. But you know what doesn’t make me cringe? The thought of having a convertible and being top down a lot of the time in Florida. That’s the thing I’m looking forward to.
The new house is nice. Quite spacious even though we technically downsized from the house we were in. I finally have a place to hang my OmGym and took advantage of that for some long overdue inversion time this morning. My yoga dungeon really and truly is a dungeon now in the unfinished basement of doom. You know, where we keep the smallest tv connected to Directv, lol. The dungeon with windows and AC or heat depending on the season. I guess I’m not painting a very good picture of a dungeon. Well, seeing as how we’ve made it past noon here in the mountains, I suppose it is time to wrap this up. No wonder I slack on writing when it takes me half a day to get one post done. Work getting in the way, as usual. We’ll see if we try this again tomorrow.