New Toys And Bad Timing

I have been feeling a little chunkier in my clothes than I would like — winter, canceling out the luscious sweaty sunny yardwork that I depend on for a buzz in the summer, and probably screwy hormones. So I was casting about for something to get me into fat burning mode more of the time and stumbled across this sucker at the place where I bought my last batch of lifting gear. (They sent me a discount code and everything.) This is what I call lingerie.

Twenty pounds of lead slugs that hug you while you’re walking, crankin’ up the furnace. It just arrived (mine’s a violent shade of orange).

Only problem is, last night I stumbled across something else – it was a complicated pirouette that involved a cat, the stove and the wastebasket — and did this. Again.

Mother f***er. Same damn toe.

It should be okay for heel-to-toe speedwalking by about Tuesday — the only thing that really hurts is trying to drop to the opposite knee (so I don’t, at least not without hanging on to something). Not sure if I broke it or just sprained the hell out of it, but there’s nothing to be done in either case, except put on arnica and  tape it up to the next one over (I learned that back in my college days, when I executed a third-base slide down the hall directly into a footlocker. Don’t ask). And probably I should move the wastebasket.

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18 thoughts on “New Toys And Bad Timing

    • No, the stove was what I finally fetched up against after avoiding the cat to sling something into the wastebasket. I caught the toe (I was in sock feet) against the corner of the heavy stove base and bent it outward with the full force of my hundred and sixty some pounds going off balance. Caught myself, but not before the toe had been nearly pulled off like a drumstick. I had to wait till this morning to see how bad it really was, you can never tell at first.

  1. Cats! I have one very smart cat named Lola, and she likes to dart in front of me. She delights in trying to be where my foot is going to come down. Or she sneaks up beside or behind my leg, to surprise me when I turn. I strongly suspect that my obituary will read: “Tripped over a cat.”

  2. Oh dear, it looks painful. I’m so sorry. The description with references to drumsticks is most awful sounding.
    As for the ‘lingerie’ the only thing remotely lingerie about it is that the weights seem to nuzzle so closely to the breasts that I wonder if some ‘uplift’ is involved?

    • No real uplift, but it’s kind of got that cutaway corset thing goin’ on, if I chose to wear it that way.

      Toe is actually better already; must be just a real bear of a sprain. Two days of workouts moved most of the bruising on out. Nothing like the grief you’ve had to tackle with your foot (how is it?), which makes me almost embarrassed to gripe.

  3. I’m convinced that my cats are trying to kill me on a regular basis; thus far, I’ve only fallen down the stairs on a few occasions. But it’s only a matter of time.

    Does the lead lingerie double as a bullet-proof vest?

    • You know, given that I’ve stopped running up one street because of a nut who’s known to own four M-1’s and cherishes paranoid notions about me, you’ve given me an idea. I really do miss that hill.

    • Nope. I once had a podiatrist tell me I’d be back in a year begging him to operate on it. That was 25 years ago. You stick a little pad of insole material under the sock liner of your shoe, right at the first metatarsal head, and it takes the curse straight off it.

  4. Sorry you hurt your toe!! I once broke my little toe and it hurt like hell!! In fact, my whole body felt like it hurt from that thing, and I did tape it to the toe next to it–that’s all you can do :-/. Hope it gets better soon.

    As for the weight vest, heck, I already have at least 20 extra pounds on my torso, probably 30, so I’m feeling the strain when I do the plank and everything else! Have you tried the plank with that thing on?? Anyway, you have more muscle mass than I do, so you still wouldn’t know what it’s like to be me (ha).

    • Haven’t planked with it yet. I sometimes do that at the gym with a weight plate on my midback if I can get someone to lay it on me after I get in position.

      I’ve been all kinds of weights; I am not one of these people who can eat anything. I got down to about 35 pounds less than I weigh now when I was trying to compete and think I probably look and feel best about midway in between. I don’t think I’ll ever seriously try to get “ripped” again though. Orthostatic hypotension is ridiculous.

  5. That would be my lying down vest, designed to keep me from getting up. I wouldn’t be able to wear it for krav maga class, but I’m usually wrestling someone who outweighs me by 20 pounds anyway.

  6. I finally got it out for an hour’s spin this afternoon. About twenty minutes in I thought I was going to die but at the end of the hour everything was clocking along deliciously. Huge rush when I took it off. The pressure on my shoulders was a quaint lesson in how much we usually jack our shoulders up unnecessarily. This is going to be good.

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