Coach says I need to be bubble wrapped. He may be right.
Last week, I clocked myself in the jaw with my barbell while getting a little over enthusiastic with my push press.
This week, instead of jumping ON a box-jump box, I decided it would be more fun to crash my entire body INTO it. This produced some spectacular results in the bumps and bruises department. And since I accomplished all this excitement on the second box jump in the entire workout, my right shin had plenty of time to start bleeding all over everything and look super impressive before I wrapped it.
After CrossFit, I went to the doctor’s office for this week’s shoulder appointment. I could tell that everyone in the waiting room wanted to know why I had a bunch of gauze and half a roll of tape wrapped around my leg. I had fun smiling and acting like everything was totally normal. They didn’t ask. Polite people just don’t know what they’re missing. Doc, who is great because he doesn’t tell me off for subjecting my body to abuse like this, casually asked if I needed stitches for my leg or anything—but I suspect he really just wanted to see exactly what kind of damage I was hiding under all the wrapping. I said no thanks.
Later, while I was standing in the shower with blood still gushing out of the missing chunk in my leg, a bit of a dilemma occurred to me: I didn’t actually have any gauze pads of my own. Coach had given me the one I had on earlier.
But wait, I’m a creative genius. Are you ready for this?
I just taped a Maxi Pad to my leg. It was perfect. They’re meant to soak up blood anyway, right? I was disappointed that Roomie was out of town and I didn’t have anybody with whom I could share my brilliant idea. So I decided to put it on here instead.
Of course, it occurred to me this morning that I didn’t really fancy going to CrossFit in shorts with a sanitary napkin taped to my leg, so I stopped at Walgreens for some real gauze and some Neosporin on my way to work this morning and rewrapped my shin at lunchtime. Thank God nobody caught me. Everyone at work already thinks I’m a lunatic.
Also, another public service announcement: Neosporin makes some sort of lip moisturizer, which is apparently what was actually in the tube I bought this morning. It was NOT clearly labeled, let me tell you. But I stuck it on my leg anyway. I figured it can’t hurt. I mean, lips are made out of skin, and skin is what I would eventually like to have on my leg again. Close enough. I paid five bucks for that shit; I want to use it for something.
Indigo Onions 