That’s “Humiliation in Winter” for you non-French speakers. Altavista said that humiliation in English is humiliation in French. How true. How true.
So here I sit, at work, with a 3M Nexcare Reusable Cold Pack on my derriere. How, you ask, did this come to pass?
Last week, my friend asked me to go cross-country skiing with her and her sister-in-law. I hadn’t been cross-country skiing since I was eight. I remember that I hated it, but not exactly why I hated it. Something about downhill skiing being exciting and cross-country skiing being boring and a lot of work.
“What the heck.” I said.
“What the Hell!?!” I replied to myself on Sunday.
After falling six times, directly impacting my tailbone each time in a very harsh manner with much force, I took off my skis and began the mile and a half hike to the warming house. My friends tried to get me to come back. No way I was gonna do that.
My butt hurt on Sunday. Now, two days later, my ass is black and blue. WebMD says to ice and take Tylenol. I hear and obey.
Someone who is training for marathons bitches about the hard work of XC skiing?
Were you were skiing on steep, icy stuff? I’m surprised you were falling that much and that hard. At least you should be pleased that you were providing much innocent amusement to your friends.
XC skiing is actually a fun way to get some exercise and to get the hell out of the house in the winter, and if you have your own gear, it’s free, as opposed to downhill skiing. Give it another shot.
BTW, if you want bone thumping falls, try learning snow boarding on icy hardpack at the tender age of 40 something. Now that was painful.
At eight years old, I thought cross-country skiing was a lot of work. I probably wouldn’t now, if I could stay upright for more than 30 seconds at a shot.
It wasn’t steep, but it was very icy and I could not keep my balance, for some reason. Every time I fell, I fell directly on my tailbone, exactly on the ridge between two ski tracks (in five cases) or on the edge of my ski (in one extremely painful case).
My friends said that the powder on the lake was much easier to deal with.
I’ll try it again, I guess. But only after I have healed, completely. It still really hurts.
Crayons doesn’t ski. Crayons on skis is like penguin on rollerskates. Last time I was XC falling-on-my-face, all I got for it was an earful, noseful, and mouthful of snow. It’s tougher than it looks.
I don’t do cross-country skiing, but I severely bruised my tailbone three weeks ago whilst skiing in France. I was almost standing still, but had my legs thrown clear by a patch of icy snow (and the more inexperienced girl I was skiing with, and whom I should have given a lot more room to manoeuver, being quite experienced myself). We both fell, me directly on my tailbone.
Now, in the movies, when the guy and the girl collapse into a heap in the snow, it’s cute, and stuff happens (in spite of, hello, SNOW). In real life, not so cute.
I feel your pain, having gotten kicked on my tailbone over a week ago in karate class. Still sitting kinda sidesaddle…
:smack: And here I was hoping this thread was going to give me an opportunity to commiserate with others who have chilly bottoms. Who perhaps have husbands or SOs who shriek, “Woman, how is it that your bum is so COLD?” when we attempt to spoon with them.
moi, we must be separated twins. Somehow, between stripping out of clothes and snuggling up to my SO, I develop the ass of ice. Last night, he just tucked the covers in around him when I crawled in bed.
And here we have people that deliberately put ice on their butts! Waah!
