5 Pineapple Rings.
Unless I Require Surgery.
In the wild, flag-flyin’ spirit of the Olympics, I have decided to pull out my back somethin’ fierce. And, because I have an acute case of endorphin envy, I blame the pairs’ long program for my injury.
You see… what happens is I watch them doing cool crap and smiling hugely, and then I want to do that, too. So I do things like double axels in the open 2-sq ft that I have in my apartment. And sometimes I hit my bookcase or my coffee table. But I have to keep going because I am, of course, chasing the gold. And then I have to bow dramatically to each quadrant of the skating arena, and sometimes I see someone I know in the audience, so I wave a small tight wave (you know… just for them). And then sometimes people throw things at me. Like roses and stuffed bunnies. And my friends from jail throw things in little baggies that I believe to be plant food for the aforementioned roses; they are thoughtful.
So last night I was doing that. And it was fine… I hit my bureau once or twice with my left shoulder (spiral sequence), but no real deductions.
But then I was stretching after my run this morning and I felt something important in my lower back snap.
So here it is… merely 5 days into the competition, and Michelle Kwan and I are on the bench. Life, I tell you, is simply not fair.
Not to mention the fact that NBC has popped 14% more ads into Olympic TV coverage for this go’round. Force me to strain my back and then bury me in boxy SUV commercials? My ardent Olympic spirit has been seriously attacked.
If Johnny Weir doesn’t wear lots of sweet feathers for his free program, it’s totally over.