Rowing machine. Yeah, I got seduced by it. But like any other tawdry affair, it came back to bite me in the butt. Literally.
Feet strapped in, knees flexed, pulling the bow to my chest in great heaves, I reached a speed of about 40 miles per hour. Then I slid off the front of the seat. I don't know if it was the strength of my thrust that did it, the fact that the seat is hard slippery plastic, or that extending my short legs too far makes my whole body hiccup and lift a little bit on the machine. Probably a combination of all three. Regardless of the cause, I flew forward off the seat and landed on the bar that the seat slides back and forth on. Right on my tailbone. I cursed, audibly. Thankfully, there was no one else with me in the small private room. Nobody to laugh nervously at my misfortune, nobody to offend with my kneejerk (pun most certainly intended) cursing.
I couldn't walk around the track without limping. Running was out of the question, as were most stretches. I could not lean on the fitness ball. I spent the rest of my workout "recovering" while James finished running. It was awful. So, for the rest of that week I went to the gym and had very limited workouts. Elliptical for thirty minutes, graduating to a climbing machine, then eventually a few sit-ups, with the fitness ball positioned under my lower back and my legs planted on the ground.
I still experience a little bit of discomfort when I sit down. My workouts are finally fulfilling again, but I feel like I'm building back up to where I was now, and with my holiday schedule getting so nutso, I'm nervous that I won't have the time to get back to that four or five day fitness regimen. Here's hoping...
And please. Talk to your kids about the dangers of rowing machines.
