The one where I am hurting (again)

 

 

paleoI have a problem. I have had this problem since I was knee-high to a grasshopper. I appear to have an infallible ability to hurt myself, like ALL the time.

Yesterday my 5 year old son actually managed to cause himself enough pain to emit blood-curdling screams. When I rushed to investigate which large household object had decapitated him, I discovered that he was sitting on the sofa in front of the TV, crying. Yes. He had actually managed to cause himself an injury whilst sitting absolutely still on a couch. It is clearly genetic.

I will gloss over the fact that my arms and legs generally resemble those of a dalmation most of the time, due to my incredible ability to bruise just by thinking about it; the ever-present black blotches are such a given that they’re hardly worth a mention. Although I did just mention them.

I will also leave out the injuries which I have incurred outside of the fitness arena. These are simply too numerous and embarrassing to catalogue, although the day I fell off a ladder last year was a real doozy, and the childrens’crossfit paleo playground incident had them rolling in the aisles.

I will, however, draw attention to the list of not-quite fatal, but sodding painful injuries which the boys at CrossfitHG3 have malevolently inflicted upon my ageing body. Let me see, where shall we start? *clears throat*

1. Large bulbous swelling and gi-fucking-gantic bruise to right inner knee, incurred on first ever day at Crossfit, as a result of poorly judged box jump. Result – 6 weeks of swelling and an inherent fear of large black boxes for the rest of my life.

2. Severe foot injury, already outlined herein – exacerbated by drill-sergeant’s requirement for me to master the ‘double under’ skip. Result – skipping &  running smart like hell and possibly requiring surgery in future.

3. Spinal distress. Pain in my lower back like a small indiginous back-dweller is living inside me sharpening his machete on my spinal chord. Burpee crouches hurt like buggery. Deadlifts? Well, you do the maths. Result – girly lightweight who winces. A lot.

4. Large flap of skin separated from my right shin as a result of a poorly judged box jump. Yes, there may be a pattern emerging there. Result -pathological fear of boxes moved to another level.

5. Wrist sprain. Sustained in the aforementioned ‘playground’ incident.  Result – limiting for burpees, handstands and press-ups.

I am thinking of keeping a journal of all incidents, ranging from the minor to the downright hilarious, although I fear that this would render me somewhat Rain Man-ish in nature. I do not have time to count frigging toothpicks. So, I’ll leave it at this:- I am a bona fide Klutz. Bungling, inept and accident prone. I am unable to participate in deadlifts, running, skipping, box jumps, handstands, burpees or press-ups, but I haven’t missed more than one or two sessions of Crossfit for almost 10 months, and I’m still standing. Just standing. And mainly watching. 🙂

 

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