Iron Maiden

Auughh! It's the T-Rex ham-string stretch!

Today I was put on the rack.  Paul decided I needed more range of motion in my shoulders especially the locked up left one.  He announced this after the T-Rex hamstring stretch that never fails to put me in touch with my orbital cavity.

So first I had to get down on the floor which meant there was a 50-50 chance that I would either be focused & stretching (think "relief") or enduring an exercise that results in my eviscerating my lips with my teeth in order to prevent myself from revealing national secrets.

Today it was the latter.  I had to grind a lacrosse ball into the flesh around my scapula and down the side of my spine, 1 (one) slow degree of placement at a time.  I was supposed to move my arm diagonally across my body in order to rotate the shoulder.   Five minutes into the exercise my shoulder could have detonated and blown off my body for all I cared in the face of the volcanic burning in my back and neck.  My arm movement began to resemble that of a beached seal waving desperate flippers.

I wildly tried to think of things that were worse than the flaming muscles under my skin:

• spiders in the shower
•  gas station bathrooms
• French

When I finally came to, Paul chained me to a bunch of wheels for the Egyptian Slave exercise.

you should see the inside

I set off for the far end of the parking lot, dragging the metal wheels to a distant  pyramid site.

I spent the first part of the journey cheerfully imagining my own personal pyramid and how I would decorate it.

The march back included gruesome drags over uneven pavement and clumps of grass that snapped me out of my Alexandrian day dreams.  With a lot of unsavory language involving fricatives & occlusives, I eventually returned the wheels to the entrance, and carefully coiled the harness and straps.

Tech Sergeant Chen said it best: "Hmm.That was a hell of a thing."