My Two Cents: It's All Relative
"When I woke up I didn't know where I was!"
My friend Peter shared in a story he was telling at the gym.
"When I woke up I didn't know where I was."
I had to put the free weights that I was holding down. I was intrigued by what he was sharing.
My morning workout routine is composed of some intentional serious exercise, and some intermittent chit chat with friends that occurs between sets. The chatter takes on a broad range of topics and this morning was no different.
Right off the bat, I was already in a conversation, comparing sports related injuries with another buddy, Michael.
Michael: I'm feeling a little discomfort now in my shoulder.
Me: Rotator cuff?
Michael: Rotator cuff.
Me: It took me months before I could start lifting heavy again.
Michael: I'm feeling a little discomfort now in my shoulder.
Me: One doctor wanted to operate.
Michael: It's annoying.
Me: Another doctor gave me these therapy exercises.
Michael: You could feel it right over here.
Me: Annoying.
This is when Peter sees us talking and decides to walk over.
Peter: Rotator cuffs?
Me and Michael (simultaneously): Rotator cuffs.
Peter: Yeah, I've had that. But what was really hampering my workouts was the shrapnel that was left in my leg and my side. Every time I did abs or squatted I could feel the fragments moving around.
It was in Viet Nam. I was on patrol, walking through the jungle, when I got hit with a missile. When I woke up I didn't know where I was. It wasn't until a couple of years ago that I finally decided to have my doctor remove the shrapnel.
Peter pauses and lifts up his jersey to show off his scar which was situated just beneath his six pack.
He turns to walk away.
Me: I guess shrapnel trumps rotator cuff.
And with that -
it was time get back to more sets...
That's my two cents (for whatever it's worth),
Auguste Roc
auguste@danaroc.com
