I Do Not Like The Cone of Shame

Dug

Well, here I am. Here’s the thing – it’s not that I STOPPED P90X, it’s that I had to take a temporary leave of absence from it. It’s still my bitch, make no mistake about it. I am a powerhouse. Except that in real life, outside of my brain, I am not a powerhouse, I am an uncoordinated, clutzy person who does not know what various parts of her body are doing at any given time.

You see, it’s like this….I have deformed wrist bones. This is going somewhere and is relevant, I promise. It’s called Madelung’s Deformity, and it actually exists outside of my head and in the medical world. It’s not just me being a hypochondriac. You can Google it if you want, but the bottom line is, it appears (usually) in females in their late teens. That is when I started having issues holding a violin. The doctor said “It’s tendinitis!” and treated me for that. It never went away, so you know, this is me we’re talking about, I quit playing the violin altogether. Years went by, and I decided to join a karate class. In this class, I was forced against my will to do push ups. I can tell you the exact moment my wrists went bad and never came back – I woke up the day of my karate class and my wrists hurt. I went to the karate class, did push ups on my knuckles because I couldn’t bend my wrists, and my wrists hurt. It never stopped after that. On any given day my pain level is somewhere between “a lot of pain” and “intolerable, incessant, no relief, I want to cut my arms off” pain. I’ve become used to “a lot of pain” and I consider that my normal state. But when it goes beyond that, it can get really bad. I had wrist surgery on both wrists several years ago, but it did not do anything. The doctor did not expect it to. The only actual cure for Madelung’s Deformity is a pretty extreme surgery that doctors will only do in the most severe of cases, which mine is not. So I live with pain.

This is where it applies to P90X – remember way back to the blog I wrote about faceplanting when I tried to grab my ankle with my hand? Well, as you may recall, at the last minute I realized I was careening out of control towards the floor, and I stuck my hands out to catch myself. It hurt. At the time I thought, this isn’t so bad. But it IS that bad. My wrists have been extremely bad since then. And for those of you who have chronic pain, you may be aware of the fatigue, crankiness and lack of interest in anything that goes along with the pain.

I made a valiant effort – I brought the DVD from the Boy’s house to my house. And then I fell asleep on the couch snuggling my cat. The Boy came over and we did Krav Maga together, which was super fun for me, but not for him. Apparently I make a very bad training partner. You are supposed to NOT hit when you are doing the moves. I hit. I hit hard. Saying “In slow motion, without actually hitting me” means the same as “I’m putting a chocolate bar in front of you, don’t eat it” to me. It is completely meaningless and irrelevant. Put your hands around my neck, I’m going to do the full attack back on you, that’s all there is to it. At least after I’ve hit you, I stop really fast and get a big surprised look on my face and say “OHMYGOSH I’m so sorry!”, but somehow, I don’t think that made up for punching the Boy in the Man Bits several times. What’s worse is that I can never remember the actual moves, so I start with the right thing, and end by punching, kicking and biting whatever body parts I can reach. I spazz out. My defense is either duck and cover, or completely spazz out on a person. I mean, really, you try doing a standard martial arts move against someone who is flinging their limbs at you in all different directions, and biting you every time you come close. It just isn’t going to happen.

I also find it hard to work with the standard “training” method in martial arts. “You stand here, and I’ll stand here. Now put your hands around my neck. No, not like that, like this. Ok, now I will defend myself”. That doesn’t happen in real life! “Hi, I’ll be your attacker today. If you’d just turn to your side, I’ll place my hands around your neck now. Ready?” So when it’s my turn to attack, I run full force, in spazz mode, and attack. Beat that, Jackie Chan.

So Krav Maga, hey, that’s exercise! It also creates fun new ways for me to hit the floor at full force.

All this is to say, I AM IN PAIN! My wrists are beyond tolerable and I can’t do a thing about it. I went to pee at work the other day, and I pulled my jeans down and pinched a nerve in my neck. I can not even pee without adult supervision.

I am not going to stop P90X, like I said. I’m going to do it again. But I will be doing it sporadically and very, very carefully…..who am I kidding? This is why I am always injured, I don’t do anything “carefully”. I run into things head first and at full force, absolutely convinced I can do whatever physical feat I am attempting. My brain can not conceive that my body is completely incapable of even walking a straight line, let alone balancing on one foot. Oh, and the Boy tried teaching me some of the yoga parts of it – I might actually let him video tape me doing it sometime, that’s how funny it was. Literally, 1 second standing on one foot, and I’m down. Sometimes I’m not just down, but pitching forward face first.

To add to all of this, my reputation for injuring myself/getting poisoned/getting deathly ill is so great that when I didn’t post a blog on my third P90X day, my super awesome friend called and asked if I was still alive, or if I was in the hospital because I injured something. That almost made my epic failure worth it!

On a completely unrelated note, a customer came into my store yesterday, looked straight at me while a male employee was right behind me, and said “I’d like to see a male employee”. This man, to me, looked like a mailman. He was not a mailman. I sincerely thought he meant “mail” employee, like, someone who handles the mail. So I said “Do you mean m-a-i-l or m-a-l-e?” and he glared at me. Thankfully, the male employee behind me stepped in, and I stepped to the side. It turns out the guy had naughty books to sell and he didn’t think he should expose me to things of that nature. I’m not going to lie, I don’t want me exposed to that, either. There’s a reason we have a Not Rated D for Darcy rating. So Male Employee #1 reassured the guy that his buy would get done, but that he was going on break, so he’d pass it off to another employee. Here is where the customer, Naughty Book Man, glared at me again and said “Not her”. Male Employee #2 was behind our second counter, doing his best to pretend he didn’t hear anything that was going on. Male Employee #1 summoned him to do the buy, with much protesting from #2. I will also add that Male Employee #2 is related to me and rather than having mercy on my innocent mind, wanted to traumatize me by forcing me to do the buy. I think my next blog will be all about him. He is more accident prone and clutzy than I am, earning him names such as Thumbs and Crash, and he also got bit by a sea mutant of some sort in a lake. I have never been bit by a sea mutant. He is still allowed to bring in shipment, though, and I have been forbidden under threat of death never to touch shipment because I am dangerous to myself and others.