Week six: injured
But not too badly.
The wrist had started to feel like a creaky hinge by the time I went back to work on Tuesday. I'll backtrack a moment. I'd hurt it the first shift the previous week and it hadn't gotten any better.
After the second shift the muscle that connects at the base of the thumb and curls around to the back of the forearm like an ever fattening snake was in agony. It had swollen on the thumb side of the wrist and turned the colour of a bruise.
Opening or closing my fist caused pain.
With this I started the sixth week of the Weapon Project.
I spent the weekend alternating between heat and cold treatments of the muscle. Part way through the weekend I found I could immobilize the muscle by putting the tip of my thumb to the knuckle at the base of my index finger and keeping it there. By doing this I was able to both rest the injury and use my hand.
Monday I rested, doing little else but watching television and being grumpy.
Tuesday I worked, taping the wrist and gritting my teeth through the pain. Immediately after work I changed and worked out. Calisthenics and the rope. Same routine. I was able to jump rope much longer than I had the previous week. To my surprise the wrist felt better for many hours afterward. Initially I thought it was just the endorphins, but as time passed I wasn't so sure.
Wednesday I got up and found my wrist didn't hurt. That was a cheerful - if sleepy since it happened at about 6:30am - moment. The pain came back before I even got to work though. Right after I taped the wrist, actually. So, another day of gritted teeth. I went 'home' with the intention of working out, but by the time I went to do laundry and returned I was just too exhausted and too wary of the wrist to try any kempo drills.
Thursday I didn't tape the wrist and the pain didn't come until an hour after the shift started. I learned from my mistake the previous day and worked out immediately after getting home. Calisthenics and the rope again. Pushed myself further with the rope than I had so far and was pleasantly surprised with how long I lasted.
Friday I worked a twelve hour shift, riding my bike to and from work. Had the shift been shorter I would have worked out after getting home and had a nap before Christa got there. She was scheduled to arrive anytime after 6pm. My shift lasted until that time, however, so my bike ride home had to count as my workout for the day. And believe me, it did. I hate Gordon hill.
Saturday I rested. A lot. The pain didn't show up at all. All day. It still hasn't.
Sleep was hell. Up at 6am or earlier every day from Tuesday through Friday. Which was good. I love the way the world looks at that time of day. However, I was up well past midnight a few nights early in the week. And exhausted the entire week. Friday I was awake for well over twenty hours in a row, the first thirteen of which dragged by. The last chunk flew by much faster than I wanted them too.
It occurs to me that I always just say 'diet was good' or something like that. A couple years down the road I may want a little more detail. For breakfast I have cereal and muffins. For lunch I have a sandwhich (on whole wheat), fruit and yogurt. For dinner I have chicken or fish, pasta or potatoes or rice and vegetables.
I just took my heart rate twice. The first time it was 64. The second time it was 60.
The wrist had started to feel like a creaky hinge by the time I went back to work on Tuesday. I'll backtrack a moment. I'd hurt it the first shift the previous week and it hadn't gotten any better.
After the second shift the muscle that connects at the base of the thumb and curls around to the back of the forearm like an ever fattening snake was in agony. It had swollen on the thumb side of the wrist and turned the colour of a bruise.
Opening or closing my fist caused pain.
With this I started the sixth week of the Weapon Project.
I spent the weekend alternating between heat and cold treatments of the muscle. Part way through the weekend I found I could immobilize the muscle by putting the tip of my thumb to the knuckle at the base of my index finger and keeping it there. By doing this I was able to both rest the injury and use my hand.
Monday I rested, doing little else but watching television and being grumpy.
Tuesday I worked, taping the wrist and gritting my teeth through the pain. Immediately after work I changed and worked out. Calisthenics and the rope. Same routine. I was able to jump rope much longer than I had the previous week. To my surprise the wrist felt better for many hours afterward. Initially I thought it was just the endorphins, but as time passed I wasn't so sure.
Wednesday I got up and found my wrist didn't hurt. That was a cheerful - if sleepy since it happened at about 6:30am - moment. The pain came back before I even got to work though. Right after I taped the wrist, actually. So, another day of gritted teeth. I went 'home' with the intention of working out, but by the time I went to do laundry and returned I was just too exhausted and too wary of the wrist to try any kempo drills.
Thursday I didn't tape the wrist and the pain didn't come until an hour after the shift started. I learned from my mistake the previous day and worked out immediately after getting home. Calisthenics and the rope again. Pushed myself further with the rope than I had so far and was pleasantly surprised with how long I lasted.
Friday I worked a twelve hour shift, riding my bike to and from work. Had the shift been shorter I would have worked out after getting home and had a nap before Christa got there. She was scheduled to arrive anytime after 6pm. My shift lasted until that time, however, so my bike ride home had to count as my workout for the day. And believe me, it did. I hate Gordon hill.
Saturday I rested. A lot. The pain didn't show up at all. All day. It still hasn't.
Sleep was hell. Up at 6am or earlier every day from Tuesday through Friday. Which was good. I love the way the world looks at that time of day. However, I was up well past midnight a few nights early in the week. And exhausted the entire week. Friday I was awake for well over twenty hours in a row, the first thirteen of which dragged by. The last chunk flew by much faster than I wanted them too.
It occurs to me that I always just say 'diet was good' or something like that. A couple years down the road I may want a little more detail. For breakfast I have cereal and muffins. For lunch I have a sandwhich (on whole wheat), fruit and yogurt. For dinner I have chicken or fish, pasta or potatoes or rice and vegetables.
I just took my heart rate twice. The first time it was 64. The second time it was 60.
