- Those who find this highly amusing,
- Those who find this disgusting, and
- Those who don’t quite know what I’ve drawn over.
If you don’t fall into the first category, the rest of this post probably won’t go down so well… if you do, read on!
Ladies – this isn’t another lecture. Smears. You know you should have them. Good on you if you do. It’s your choice if you don’t. Done.
Are these experiences the sort of thing that should be shared in public, with complete strangers? Why not? I understand that it’s not standard practice to go about spouting off to the internet, but I thought, heck – I’ve talked about seeing doctors about my bald spots. This just involved showing a nurse yet another tan-less patch of my body.
It’s okay – I’m not going to explain the visit.
Instead, I thought you would find amusement in my post-appointment gym session…
At sixteen, my mother shared one excellent piece of advice – when going to the doctor’s surgery, take tissues. Pfft, I thought at the time, Why would I burst into tears in front of my doctor?
Ladies. Don’t forget your tissues.
Gentlemen, – to ensure we’re all on the same page here – certain tools require a certain amount of lubrication to get the job done.
So yeah, don’t forget your tissues.
I didn’t take any tissues.
And then, the genius that I am, trotted off to the gym for Week 2, Day 2 of my C25K training.
Bad move. Silly move. I completed the 33 min workout on the treadmill without socks (because I forgot them, too).
Lube and blisters.
Blisters and lube.
Sadly, the blisters were lubeless.
Started some of the core strengthening exercises I ran through with the trainer, too. Now that was a bad move.
After about 45 min, I packed it in and decided to head home. It’s Friday night after all.
Walking funny, I wandered out of the gym unchanged followed by odd looks.
It’s a women’s gym – they understand.