Epic phrases. You know them…they’re those eulogy predicates that are usually uttered in glory-seeking moments leading up to really unfortunate attempts at immortality. In my experience, rarely have I seen anything good follow the exclamation, “Hey guys, watch this!” In the annals of famous last words, these are typically the one’s that take generations to scrub from a family legacy, because the ribbon of shame awarded for stupidity has a longer half-life these days, due in most part to the ascendancy of YouEpicFailTube.
Likewise, when you hear someone shout, “Oh, s#*t!”, the next moments are usually the stuff of legend. These are a little less reputation tarnishing then the former phrase, but only because the disasters they precede are typically not the result of a deliberate attempt at earning a Darwin Award.
Last Sunday, I pulled a move that would have landed me in the opener of Wide World of Sports under the agony of defeat voice over. I’ve never crashed and laughed so hard at a skating practice. If only there were video…
It was the last epic lap of a mini Pyramid of Pain. Up to the “point of critical failure” we’d endured a healthy workout…warm-up laps, speed plyo’s (the heavy set), some speed cornering drills and by the time I’d bitten it, we’d skated through the pyramid, climbing twice. For my non-skating friends that read this to laugh at my stupidity, the Pyramid of Pain is a sprinting and endurance drill. The order for this one (follow along at home) was sprint one lap, rest one lap, sprint two, rest two, sprint three, rest two, sprint two, rest two, sprint one, rest one, sprint two, rest two, sprint three, rest two, sprint two, rest two, sprint one. Follow that? It might seem daunting, but he was actually going easy on us, because we’re just now at the point in our training where we’re starting the speed work. Anyway…if you do the math, that’s 17 sprint laps in quick succession. Pretty intense for most of us mortals, (despite how long some of us have been doing this…)
Going into lap 15 my legs were already toast. I’d made some poor decisions the night before and earlier that morning, choosing to stay up too late and skipping breakfast. And we’ve had some guys skating with us that have been racing all season and can really throw down, so I’ve been trying to step it up. It’s funny because my ego can handle getting my doors blown off by a 13 year old girl, (The Fast Kid) but bring in a senior (Slayer) and masters (The New Guy) guys and I’m all about not wanting to be last across that line.
So…I was doing well with drill. I usually do well with endurance drills because I’m essentially an outdoor, point-to-point ultra-distance skater (that’s a freaking haughty mouthful, eh?) The New Guy was doing well too. We were alternating between 2nd and 3rd on the sprints. As we were coming down the backside of the last pyramid, I was holding onto the two spot, chasing Slayer but not really gaining on him. So anyway…we get to lap 16 and our coach starts screaming at us to crank it up, he wants to see maximum effort, hawking at the line, bawlz to the wall skating. Well, that got The New Guy fired up and I could tell he was right on my backside. Going into that last turn I was gunning to take that cone “clams-azz” tight.
Well…that’s when my left ankle gave out. I tried to recover quickly on the right, but my right gave way too. I landed in an A-frame careening directly for the steel cabinets lining the walls of the rink. I knew they didn’t have much support in the doors and that they’d stop me. That wouldn’t be so bad…the only problem was, Lionheart’s Mom was standing there, like a deer caught in the headlights, right in my path.
In the time that’s transpired between then and now, I’d like to think I had enough time to at least point in the right direction and shout, “RUNFERYERLIFE!!!” or maybe just “MOVE!” But no…in those precious few seconds, when I could clearly envision breaking both of her knee-caps, all I could say was, “Oh S#&T!” Just before I hit the carpet I went down on my hip, but I was going fast enough to get spun around when I hit the carpet and continued sliding backward right toward Lionheart’s Mom. In the blink of an eye she pulled a Diamond David Lee Roth flying split with her back up against the locker…and I crashed into the door, back first, directly between her legs. I stopped, she landed. I looked up and there she was, looking down, straddling my head…uninjured.
Full recovery took about two minutes…not because I was in pain but because I was laughing so hard. There are many more jokes I can make…but this is a family blog. (As if…) No. I just wanted to give much respect to my fast-thinking friend, who’s cat-like reflexes and perfect timing have earned her a new name here at FirstLoser…Leeza Lee Fastfeet. I just hope she’s not a Van Hagar fan.