Well, crap. Here I was, not even halfway through my workout, and, well, crap.
So I quit, wrapped it, iced it, and elevated it.
Um. That's what you are supposed to do.
Remember when you were little and you did something wrong and your Momma or Daddy told you not to do it and you said to them, "But you do that all the time!" And they said, "Don't do like I do, do like I say!"
So here we are, children. When you get such an injury, stop what you are doing and RICE it (For those of you who missed the first aid lecture on Monday because you were too hung-over? That's Rest, Ice, Compression, and Elevation, which reduces swelling and inflammation and helps speed up the healing process by so doing.)
That's what I was supposed to do. Instead, I did what most of the guys I know would do, even though we all know better: I kept going and finished my workout ...
Bad Steve. Bad.
So now I have Mr. Wrist taped up and I've been icing it and taking Ibuprofen and like that, but it is costing me more than it would have, had I done what I was supposed to do.
And whose fault is it?
I blame Romney. And maybe pomegranates. Ever tried to separate the seeds from the pith in those suckers? Big mess ...