Monday, June 16, 2008
Calf muscle injury
There's been a bit of a set back .. I knew I was going to miss week 7 of the training because of a trip to Las Vegas (sales conference with work), but just before I went I pulled my calf-muscle playing football. Especially annoying because I was feeling really good about the football season so far. My performances have been loads better than last season just because of the training ... faster, more stamina, stronger ... but anyway thats all gone to shit because of this. The stupid thing is, I pulled it a little bit just running with the dog in the park, then knowing that it was hurt I went to play anyway, on astro-turf that didn't help at all. Should know better. So now I'm out for week 8. I'm going anyway because there's feedback on our progress.
Sunday, June 15, 2008
Happy Father's Day
In honour of Father's Day (Canadian) and to prove that I should have some pedigree for this caper, here is a story that my old fella told me about when he was an engineering apprentice in Liverpool (see 'The African King' for a story about my grandfather).
My father and all the other apprentices had to work on a technical drawing, free-hand of course as part of their apprenticeship. He had finished, and it was looking good until one of the others threw a cup of coffee all over the page ... on purpose, probably out of envy. My father's name is Dave, the coffee-spiller's name is Davie and he went on to be my father's best man. This was maybe one of their first encounters and there was a score to be settled. My father chased Davie around the factory floor, but Davie was quick. Eventually, as tempers had settled they were able to communicate that a fist-fight wouldn't do because they may both lose their jobs .. so they'd have to settle it another way. From what I understand, scores did not go unsettled in the good old days.
So they decided that they would take turns to punch each other in the arm, and whoever yielded first would be the loser. In England its called a 'dead-arm', here in Canada its called a 'charlie-horse' and Davie tried to give one to my Dad my sneakily raising his middle-knuckle in his fist and swinging his best shot. My father did not flinch at all. Even though it hurt like hell, he didn't move a muscle, his expression stayed the same ... and this was enough for Davie. He ran again, my father didn't even have to throw his punch because he won by default because of being hard as coffin nails.
My father and all the other apprentices had to work on a technical drawing, free-hand of course as part of their apprenticeship. He had finished, and it was looking good until one of the others threw a cup of coffee all over the page ... on purpose, probably out of envy. My father's name is Dave, the coffee-spiller's name is Davie and he went on to be my father's best man. This was maybe one of their first encounters and there was a score to be settled. My father chased Davie around the factory floor, but Davie was quick. Eventually, as tempers had settled they were able to communicate that a fist-fight wouldn't do because they may both lose their jobs .. so they'd have to settle it another way. From what I understand, scores did not go unsettled in the good old days.
So they decided that they would take turns to punch each other in the arm, and whoever yielded first would be the loser. In England its called a 'dead-arm', here in Canada its called a 'charlie-horse' and Davie tried to give one to my Dad my sneakily raising his middle-knuckle in his fist and swinging his best shot. My father did not flinch at all. Even though it hurt like hell, he didn't move a muscle, his expression stayed the same ... and this was enough for Davie. He ran again, my father didn't even have to throw his punch because he won by default because of being hard as coffin nails.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
