That Tears It
September 26th, 2006 by rsm
So my arms have been hurting a little since Saturday’s climbing, and probably not the “good” kind of hurt. I held off working out for a couple of days.
Well… it was a tough, rough, p.i.a. kind of day:
What they were saying: whine, whine, bitch, whine whiney whine, bitch, moan, stupid thing doesn’t whine.
What I heard: Money just comes out of thin air and you have tons of it with unlimited resources so why can’t you buy me stuff to fix the problems I created by buying stuff without consulting you or having the expertise to make a good decision on it, then assign someone to hold my hand and sit on a little chair next to me all the time?
How I had to respond: It seems you are trying your best to deal with some frustration because the system isn’t working the way you anticipate. Let’s see what we can figure out before we look into purchasing anything else.
I hit the gym. Besides, I had an invitation to a family dinner afterwards and really needed an attitude change.
Pullups have become my favorite exercise. There are several reasons: 1. They are a GREAT upper back exercise that can hit the arms, shoulders and neck as well. Saves me time and I get great results 2. I can DO them. When I was younger/smaller, one or two. Today, 18 in a row before my arms started to get some sharp pains. Bad sign.
But I continued with the workout, then back to my office to find some ice because I was really hurting and an ice massage was the first line of defense. Let me see if I can explain the pain:
Have you ever had your blood drawn and the phlebotomist and/or monkey didn’t quite get the right angle, went through the vein and touched tendon? Yowsa.
Luckily on my way to the office, and it was late in the day, I accidentally ran into Dr. R, a highly skilled physical therapist. He’s unique in many ways, including being one of a very small handful of PTs that have his level of certifications and accreditations in some areas. He’s a gentle man whom I did not trust at first. Fact is, his angular features are sharp, almost unwelcoming. He’s also Iranian and proud of his Muslim heritage. Odd time to come to the States. But somewhat quickly, I have grown to be pleasantly happy every time I see him. When I found out he lives not-too-far from me, I gave him my home number so he or his wife could call if they get stuck this winter with their little car in the snow at home.
He saw the ice in my hand.
“What is wrong?”
I mentioned the need for the ice massage and a few minutes of rest.
“Oh… let me check.”
“No, that’s okay. Besides, it’s well past time for you to go home.”
“I know. It’s okay,” and he put his small, warm hands around my elbows and shut his eyes. He concentrates on the tactile senses to determine problems. After several minutes of pushing and twisting, he said, “Your biceps are very angry with you. You have hurt them and now they are getting back at you. See how they guard?”
“So ice is good?”
“Ice, heat and a lot of rest. No curls, no presses, no pullups for a while. Come see me tomorrow and we can see how they are after a night of rest, if you don’t mind.”
“But pullups are my favorite!” I whined. “And how could I mind? I don’t want to take time away from your professional practice.”
The hard angles of his cheekbones and eyes softened into a smile. “For you, it is no problem” and away he went.
He sounds like good people to me…
Take care of yourself, Big Guy!
Yes, take care of yourself! But thanks for coming to dinner, too, even in pain. Fun times.