Friday, April 15, 2011

Drier Balls

I’ve been suffering recently.

While some of you may be sympathetic, many of you are quietly smiling to yourself thinking “Suck it up, Buttercup.”

I tried to get some balance back in to my life by skipping the cardio and doing some weight work at the gym. It was mildly successful. My endurance running suffered but since it was so cold I really didn’t care until I discovered at Around the Bay that my get up and go had got up and went.

My calves were shredded.

My back ached, I couldn’t touch my toes and I have to sit in a chair to tie my shoes.

My neck and shoulders were tight beyond belief.

My body was a single contiguous trigger point from the top of my (bald) head to the tips of my (blistered) toes.

I foam rolled bits and pieces.

I sacro-wedgied my psoas.

I thumped and pigeoned.

I consumed mass quantities of little blue pills.

My chiropractor convinced me of her sole solution with a mini marvel.

My massage therapist ROFL’d while he ROLF’d. He told me I needed drier balls.

Say what?

I mean, here I am lying in my underwear getting abused in some less than pleasant ways and he’s critiquing my nether regions? You’d sweat a little too much to if somebody was examining your tonsils via insertion at the Greater Trochanter.

Apparently in my pain delirium, I misunderstood what he was trying to explain, my issue wasn’t profuse sweating but a fiscal misapplication of my hard earned money.

I need needed “Dryer Balls”.

Well why he couldn’t have just said so.


Katie said...

no, i actually think maybe he meant the first! bwahahaha.

Jeff said...

I supposed there are worse things than truncal hyperhidrosis.

I could have a terminal condition where I need these