Crash and Burn

The treadmill and I got up close and personal this week. The treadmill has been my main exercise machine for the last nine years. We've logged a lot of time together. I am not saying this in a bragging tone but so that you know that after this much time, it would be safe to say that I'm well versed in the safety measures one should take when using this effective machine. Apparently not.



Monday was interval training day where I run at 10mph for 30 seconds and the a light jog for a minute and then repeat this cycle 10 times. I was on the last seconds of my first 10mph when I heard something rubbing against the track. I hit the stop button and jumped to the side of the track. Now, when I say I hit the stop button, I need to be clear that the track doesn't just come to a dead stop but gradually slows itself to a halt in somewhere around 10 seconds. So, again, I hit the stop button, jump to the side of the track and also start to turn to look behind me to see what was making the noise. And this, my friends, is where all the common sense I had left my brain and went on vacation and mistake number one is made: my foot catches the track and my body is immediately thrown to the side and catapulted off the treadmill. Here is where mistake number two comes in and has actually been there since we moved into this house almost two years ago: the end of the treadmill is backed up right against a wall. What this means is that I was chucked off the treadmill only to be pinned up a against the wall so that the track (which, let me remind you, is slowing down from the speed of 10 mph) is now performing some major exfoliation on my leg and arm. The thoughts that are running through my mind during this harrowing escapade went something like this: "This is not good. I can't afford to get hurt. The team cannot afford to lose another player! This is NOT good!"

Finally the treadmill has slowed enough to the point where I can peel myself off of it only to then to be blind sided by the pain coming from my leg and arm. Bracing myself, I look down at my leg...ohhhhhh...that's not good. However, I will not be one of those wooses who let a minor injury like this stop me from finishing my workout. I'll just go upstairs, clean it off and then finish my run. Seriously, the brain cells have stopped functioning. I grab a dish towel and wet it and then start to blot and then...

...AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

It's at this point that I decide to go on sabbatical from my workouts for a week or two. And how about for good measure, any bending, stretching or flexing of my leg as well.

Now, five days later I can happily say that I'm able to bend the leg but it is essential to where loose fitting clothes. I'm tempted to take a picture of my wound to show to you but I fear it will horrify you to the extent that you would never want to come back to this blog again. I'll just tell you that when my brother was in 6th grade he suffered from severe 2nd and 3rd degree burns and this is nothing compared to that. He did, however, have skin grafts taken from other parts of his body to cover the burn and my wound looks like the places where they performed his skin grafts. Only my skin was not put to good use and is now lying in embedded streaks on the treadmill.

There are two things that I'm grateful for out of all this. One is that Sage was downstairs playing just out of view when it happened and never saw anything which is such a relief because I really think it could have seriously traumatized her. The second thing I'm grateful for is Neosporin. God bless you people who came up with it and also the people who came up with the generic and cheaper version as well since I've been going through this stuff like a banshee.

I'd like to think that my brain is now functioning normally (whatever that is, I'm not sure) but I guess we'll find out! Oh, and in case you were wondering, I looked to see what had been making that sound and it was a card from one of Sage's games. Hardly worth the pain but at least I wasn't hearing things. Right? Hey, I'll take whatever optimistic thoughts I can grab at this point.