It doesn't usually show itself in polite company, but I have a competitive side.
I lost more than 30 pounds two summers ago, and I did it mostly because I got tired of being the last one up hills on bike rides with my dad and my brother. It worked, too. Now I'm almost always second.
So, maybe it's not the most competitive side in the world, but it's there.
I'm tell you this now as a way of explaining why I spent most of the weekend nursing a headache and sore ribs. It is, I have to believe, the result of my unwillingness in any way to be outdone by the people around me.
Maybe this doesn't make sense right now, but bear with me for a minute.
A couple of weeks ago, one of my co-workers, Michelle Leonard, wrote in this space about a fall she took on New Year's Eve. She was putting a crock pot full of mini hot dogs out onto the deck when she slipped on some ice and fell. The crock pot broke and Michelle ended up with 66 stitches.
It was a good fall, I'll admit, but I was pretty sure I could do better. I've certainly seen more impressive falls. Once, on a family vacation, a step-cousin fell off of a cliff in Spain. He broke both of his arms in several places, then had to climb back up the cliff to find help. He spent the rest of the vacation with his arms propped out to the side in heavy plaster casts. So, the bar for spectacular falls has been set pretty high in my mind.
My own fall last weekend wasn't nearly that dramatic, but it was still pretty good. I was on the way to meet a former co-worker at a Minneapolis bar at the time. I jogged across a street and jumped - gracefully, in my mind - over a small pile of snow in the boulevard.
I came down with my right foot on a patch of ice and before I knew what was happening I was on the ground. My head hit the sidewalk hard enough that I saw stars. Fortunately, I don't think anyone saw me.
At the bar, I cleaned blood off of my face, although I like to think
I looked pretty tough with the scrapes on my right temple. I had a couple of drinks with my friend before my headache got too bad. I'm pretty sure alcohol is one of the recommended treatments for potential head injuries.
I was sore the next day, and had a headache almost constantly until
Monday night. My teeth still hurt when I chew on the right side and my ribs still hurt when I move to vigorously. Sneezing is especially bad.
Worst of all, though, even after all of that I'm pretty sure I can't legitimately make a claim of best fall in the office. For one thing,
"I fell on the ice," doesn't get nearly the reaction that, "I fell on a crock pot of mini weenies," does. And I'm clearly far behind when it comes to lasting evidence of the fall, too. I was hoping I'd at least get a big bruise on the side of my face to help me impress people, but when I sat down next to my brother at a basketball game
Sunday he asked me why I had a rash on my face. Rashes don't say "tough" as much as they say "possibly contagious," so that was hardly impressive.
Clearly, the fall story is a loser. So, if anyone asks, I got into a bar fight.
Friday, February 03, 2006
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1 comment:
Yes, you have to play up the bar fight angle. Better yet, you got into a fight with a gang-banger at the pizza joint after the bar. No, better yet, you got into a fight with the entire gang!
Should-a seen the hurt you put on the gang, by golly.
Go with it.
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