This is What I Get For Showing Off Like an Asshole

Saturday was my birthday. It was also my bloggiversary (insert celebratory birthday and ‘versary music here to commemorate the anniversary of my 29th birthday and the completion of my THIRD year of blogging here on Quirky Chrissy). My blog is a toddler. And what an adorable little toddler she is. She walks, and babbles, and goes to fancy blog conferences where she pretends to be a grown up. My blog is obviously smarter than me.

I know this because on Saturday, after a few celebratory dark beers, a glass of wine and a couple shots of ice cold vodka, I thought it would be a great idea to play yoga with one of my most darling friends (who just completed her yoga teacher training and is, in fact, the reason I began practicing yoga again). Now let me clarify that while I had been drinking, I wasn’t drunk. It was a fucking marathon, and there was a long day of beverages that led to my happy fun yoga time. And snacks. Oh God, so many delicious snacks.

Anyways, several hours into the celebration, we made our way to my front room, cleared a little space, and busted out the most adorable pair of trees. CC had just perfected her handstand and wanted to show off, and I’m just happy to lift my leg to my knee. It was super cute.

Then, of course, I wanted to show off. Here are a couple of the cool brag-worthy things I can do on a normal day with and without assistance:

Quirky Chrissy Yoga

See? This is me, showing off. (Just remember, this is my highlight reel and not my bloopers.)

Here are the bragworthy poses I can do with a dress on:

Yoga Dancer Pose

I love dancer pose. But this is also the pose that got me in trouble.

So, we decided to rock out a double dancer. You may have seen it all over social media. You may have even liked it. What you didn’t see was the pain I’ve been in since I woke up Sunday morning.

I have a really bendy back. It makes me look like more of an advanced practitioner than I actually am. So I can do things like dancer pose, and wheel pose, and king pigeon pose. But (there’s always a but), I usually need a decent warm up to let my muscles bend in such a way that they’ve become accustomed to. Some light stretching before slowly working my way into these very deep poses.

But when there are 15 thousand people in your house, you can’t just bust out a 45-minute practice to take a few pictures. So you jump into a pose, show off your shit and smile at the amazing picture you took with one of your besties. Because she’s an amazing yogi and you want to be just like her when you grow up.

Double Dancer Pose

I mean…it was a pretty adorable photo & all…but I was definitely trying to hold my own and show off with CC by my side. She’s my yogi mentor.

And so, I spent all day Sunday, resting. I slept until 3 pm. I mean, I woke up a couple times and laid in bed and shit…but I was basically in bed until 3. When you get up to go to the bathroom and you can barely bend over to sit down, let alone wipe your own ass without screeching in pain? You go back the fuck to bed. Twice.

I worked from home Monday and Tuesday, resting. With the occasional squeal of pain with one wrong move.

On Tuesday night, I visited Craig, my massage therapist (who also does double duty as an emotional therapist without the fancy degree…basically he listens to my bullshit and tells me when I’m full of it) of almost a decade. After telling me I was an idiot (for the bazillionth time – and he didn’t ACTUALLY call me an idiot…but I know he was thinking it), he spent 90 minutes trying to work out the softball-sized knot in my lower back to some avail. At least he was able to confirm that it was muscle related and not a disc or something. But I kind of have to go into work today. And I’m still in pain. Because I was showing off like a motherfucking asshole.

This is what I get for showing off like an asshole

Lesson learned: Stretching before and after intense yoga asanas is ABSOLUTELY NECESSARY.

So if you see me this weekend, and I offer to show you amazing feats of yogi genius, tell me to sit my ass down and stop trying to show off.

Now, tell me your story of injury, bravado or both, friends? Have you ever done something to show off and totally wrecked yourself in the process?

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Comments

  1. FRIST!!!

    Happy BloggaBirthdayVersary to you and WOW I saw that pic and thought it was amazing but it does NOT sound worth the pain. Thank goodness you could get it massaged quickly!!

    I hopped on a nail as a kid cos I thought my shoes were invincible. They weren’t. I had to have an x-ray and a shot cos (of course) it went through my foot..

  2. Linda Roy says:

    Happy Birthday and Blogaversary Chrissy! See you at BlogU!

  3. You crack me up!!! Happy happy belated blog-anniversary too!!! I would have been in bed waaay past 3:00, from the looks of those moves!!! And it would have taken a hell of a lot more than one massage to get me working again.

    YOU ARE AWESOME!!!

  4. Happy all the things that I can’t spell. You leave me dying of laughter, QC. Next time? Stick to drinking. 🙂

  5. My injury? My knee hurts like there is a giant fucking wasp stinging me every time I bend it. Or walk. Or go up stairs. how did I come across this awful injury, you may ask?

    I have NO clue. I don’t remember banging it on something. I don’t remember twisting it. I have no clue. At least you have a story

    Happy all the things!

  6. D’oh!

  7. A threenager…wow. Congrats!! But next time warm up…

  8. This involves injury, bravado and my massage therapist. A few years ago I kinda sorta dislocated my shoulder without knowing it. But I was an ass and played it off as a pulled muscle because I didn’t want to admit I seriously hurt myself carrying the groceries home.

    Fast forward a few days and I’m seeing my massage therapist and chiropractor anyway. My chiropractor immediately figures out what I’ve done and faster than a ninja pops that shit back into place while I’m standing in the waiting room. Now it’s been out of whack for almost 3 days at this point to this hurts like a mofo and I maybe screamed like a little girl.

    After the joint popping I had a nice 45 minute massage booked and although my guy always finds one spot that HURTS I usually don’t cry for the whole 45 minutes because EVERYTHING hurt at this point. At one point in every massage, he will do something that will make me call him a masochistic asshole who enjoys my pain. I usually do this laughing hysterically because it’s usually laugh or cry. In this scenario I literally cried the entire time, called him an asshole when he’d start laughing at me, hiccuping and then laughing hysterically while I cried because that’s just the way I roll in extreme pain. I got a text that night from my massage therapist asking how I was doing. To which I responded….I’m fine you masochistic asshole.

  9. We’re the same age and I’ve been seeing him for years. We laugh hysterically most of the time when I’m not calling him a sadist. That and it’s always nice when you can candidly tell your massage therapist that he’s crushing your boob and not have it be awkward.

Speak to me. Tell me awesome things. Tell me secrets. Tell me lies.

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