The Giant Rubber Band Mishap

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If you know me, then you know that I spend a fair amount of my free time at the gym. It’s not a daily thing, but I’m there at least 3 days a week. I’m comfortable with the machines that I use, know where to find the weights that I like to use, and have my usual areas all picked out.  I go, I warm-up, I workout, and then I stretch and leave.

Recently I’ve been feeling a bit woobly in my right ankle so I decided to add in some ankle strengthening exercises that my physio gave me last year when I destroyed my ankle. But I was being lazy so I decided to do the exercises while laying on the floor. With my eyes closed. While listening to my latest workout playlist.

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I looked kind of like this except the bands weren’t held together. They were further apart.

I’m clearly a pro at ankle exercises with my resistance band so I don’t need to pay attention to what I’m doing because nothing has ever gone wrong in the history of rubber bands ever. Or at least, nothing has ever gone wrong for me…

Or at least nothing had gone wrong for me until the resistance band slipped and  snapped me in my lady garden.

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Do you know what it feels like when you get shot with a rubber band?

Imagine getting cracked in the nose with a rubber band.

Except its bigger and it just shot you in the crotch.

It was basically like an over sized sling shot had snapped me in my lady snapper.

I had been laying on my back with my leg in the air and I was flexing my ankle how my physio had showed me. I was supposed to flex my toes towards me, then away from me, then towards me, and then away. Then I was supposed to flex from right to left and left to right. Except I never got to the part where I flex my toes from the right to the left because the resistance band slipped off my heel and I got cracked in the cooter.

And it sucked. I couldn’t scream because the pain literally took my breath away and all I could do was roll onto my side and curl up into the fetal position while hoping for a quick death. It was like the first time that I got my lady garden waxed, but worse because it was sudden and horrible. It was also worse because I wouldn’t have the satisfaction of having a freshly waxed downtown.

On top of it all, I wound up with a bruise that made sitting awkward for the next week.

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I have a bruise on my boob

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For the last few weeks at the gym, this random guy has been giving me a fist bump every time he sees me. I’ll be walking to one part of the gym and he’ll be walking to another and he’ll casually hold out his fist to me and I’ll casually hit my fist against it. It make me feel like a total bad ass to casually walk past this dude and tap my fist against his. Normally when it happens I am pouring sweat, my heart is racing, and one muscle group or another is shaking. But no matter what, I can almost always walk past this guy and be a total smooth criminal while knocking my fist against his.

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Except for tonight. Tonight gym dude decided to change things up. I was just walking out the room where fitness classes are held when he was walking by and instead of holding out his fist for me to bump, he held his hand up like he wanted me to shake it. So I let him grab my hand in a grip that I’m positive shattered all of my fingers and let him pull me in for that weird hand shakey hug thing that guys do.

As he pulled me in for a hug, all I could think was “be cool, be cool be cool be co-”

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And then his shoulder slammed into my boob and I felt like my world had just shattered into a million pieces in the worst of ways. I was positive that he had popped my glorious right chesticle with his body slam. My D-cup had either exploded into nothingness or was in the process of swelling into a DDD-cup. I wasn’t sure, but I could feel pain radiating out from where he had body checked me so something was going on with my now abused fun bag.

It hurt so bad that I wanted to cry on the spot. Instead I continued to tell myself to be cool while he told me that my squat was looking better and I whimpered a quick thank you told him to have a good workout. He was completely unaware that he had just destroyed my poor boob and told me to have a good rest before walking off to another part of the gym.

Now I have a bruise on my boob and I still feel like a total bad ass because I’m totally a casual gym fist bumper sort of person who occasionally dude hugs people without being a total spazz. In a world where I feel out of place and not the most confident, there is this one guy who is a shining light. Every time I awkwardly tap my fist against his, I feel like I belong. So, yes, my boob hurts right now, but I still feel like a total bad ass.