Well friends of friends, I've been quite the slacker with this blog as of late. So for those of you who have been crying for my dry sarcastic babel, I'm back. I personally thought I would have plenty of stories to tell after an entire week off from a grueling medical school career, but I was wrong. Last week I basically tried to see how much TV I would be able to take in and avoided human contact (other than my wife's) all together.
Nonetheless, here is one humorous anecdote from the break...it goes as follows:
It had been roughly 3 weeks since the last time I had any physical activity. My days over the past few weeks consisted of meandering in the library, drinking caffeine, and muttering useless movie quotes to myself to keep me motivated (rudy...Rudy...RUdy...RUDy...RUDY...get the picture?). This gave me the great idea to set out on a nice little "jog" around the neighborhood on my first Monday off. One problem I have is I tend to set some pretty high standards for myself and forget to ease my way into physical actviity, especially after my life's longest execise drought. Thus, I poorly chose to circle the ENTIRE neighborhood which made the total distance about 2 miles (wise choice). It started out well, hair flapping in the wind...the whole 9 yards. But as I hit the midway point I began to realize the mistake I had made. My lungs hurt...I mean A LOT. I think it was because they were bleeding and my body was doing just about anything to get me to stop. But you can't stop Ah Jota that easily, I ventured on. As I rounded the 1.5 mile marker my pace had slowed quite a bit but I was determined to make it back to my doorstep. Then it hit me with just about a quater mile left....the unmistakeable urge to BARF! I was now hunched over in the shade behind a tree in some guy's front yard trying to avoid the now inevitable. I took small breaths since one large breath might just give the previous nights dinner a chance of escape. My legs were basically useless at this point, so the idea of "walking it off" wasn't even possible. So I stayed there hunched in the "I was just punched in the stomach" position. But Mexitaliamer's are a tough nut to crack. Yes I reminded myself if Frodo Baggins can carry a stupid little ring, I can suck it up and take the pain. I stood myself up and began staggering home. Though I didn't run home, I reached the front door full of pride because I was able to choke back the unavoidable. I stared the Vomit Comet right in the eye and laughed in its face. I made it home without chundering all over my shoes, which keeps the wife happy and the floor clean. I guess all of us have to humbled every once in awhile. It's too bad that this time it had to be me....
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what?
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