Don’t mind the scary, scaly, underbelly-of-a-snake white leg. I’ll explain this picture and how I got the enormous bruise in a couple paragraphs.
A few posts ago, I wrote about my inability to balance my life with my attempts at authoring. Since that time I’ve added a new workout routine to my schedule that I start every morning at 5:45 a.m. (Yay me!)
That doesn’t, however, mean that I’m going to bed any earlier.
Last night I rolled into my 600 thread count sheets at about 11:15 p.m. I’d been reading, writing, and plotting before I went to sleep. Those are never a good concoction for a good night’s rest. (FYI: This is where I blame this morning’s stupidity on lack of sleep.)
Alarm goes off, I bolt out of bed, change my clothes, and dash to the basement. I pop in Barry’s Bootcamp and start my workout. As I was doing my “power squats” with my workout band tucked under my feet, my mind drifted to the dialogue I was crafting the previous evening.
“Would he really say that to her?” I thought. “Wouldn’t she have a more, like, dynamic response?”
My mind literally snapped back to my workout. The band slipped out from underneath my feet–and acting like the giant and super-tight rubber band that it is–popped across my leg with all the tension my 1%$ pounds could put into it. (And if you honestly thought I’d post my weight, you are freaking delusional.)
I screamed. Not a little “Ouch! That really hurt” whimper, but a real bloody murder shriek. I pushed pause on the video, limped around for a couple of minutes and then laughed my butt off (notice that I laughed my butt off, not worked it off).
The best part of the story is that the mark didn’t fade. I’ll be wearing that ten-inch long bruise like a badge of idiocy to the pool today.
Anyone have a sweet piece of fiction I can tell that will make me sound super tough, smart and maybe athletic? Maybe something that includes trail running and hurdles?
Have a great day. And good luck finding balance in your life.