So my shin was pretty painful all of last week even though I stopped running and was either doing nothing or hitting the pool in a wetsuit (i.e. ...nothing). However, as I have already made clear, I was more frustrated at my inability to wear heels than to run, so I wasn’t terribly upset about the situation. Until the weekend, that is. My distress began to mount as the Deadmau5 concert approached and my hopes of being healthy enough to wear my party shoes were quickly fading. How could I NOT wear my silver, glittery heels?! It was an essential component of raver Jane’s getup! For those of you who have never been to a concert like Deadmau5, it is perhaps second only to Halloween on the list of great excuses to wear something ridiculous and fit in at the same time. Since I pretty much always wear ridiculous things, it was a unique chance for me to be completely at ease while doing so.
So what does the reasonable, disciplined G.I. Jane decide to do? Find a pair of flat glittery shoes? Wear some retro runners? Skip the night of all-night dancing? Of course not! Instead I took a few midday shots of vods and put on my party outfit, glittered stilettos and all. And suddenly my shin felt awesome. We went to my friend’s house for some more non-alcoholic beverages and I raved about how great my leg felt. I clearly have astute friends, however, since they dismissed everything that came out of my mouth and instead insisted that I tape up my shin. Not sure what really happened after that but I woke up with the circulation in my leg cut off and what seemed to be an entire roll of tape around my leg. Suffice to say I did a pretty good job of compressing that sucker. (Or was it not me who taped it? Mauricio? Tim? Argean? Deadmau5?). I also must thank Tim for rudely ripping off my beautiful blonde wig and telling me it looked horrendous. I actually thought it looked pretty good but it would have been way too hot at the concert, so I’m glad it was ruthlessly stolen from me. Tim, you are a true friend.
Moi et Mauricio
Mauricio and Tim. Good friends.
So, the concert. It was awesome. I think we got there *slightly* early (7PM may have been overkill) since we danced for almost 5 hours before the man (mouse?) came on. Sheeshus talk about a climax. That was the biggest buildup I’ve ever experienced (twss). My feet were already blistered and bleeding at that point but my spirits were high since I was winning the party in every way possible. I was outdrinking men (well maybe they weren’t really men, probably couldn’t even use powertools) left right and centre, and it was beautiful. We saw some pretty crazy outfits, not to mention dance moves, but the strangest part of the whole night was this tall awkward dude that kept following me around on the dance floor. I kept thinking he was trying to attack me after he almost punched me in the face about five times. I tried repeatedly to lose him but he always managed to find me and then start to pump his fist like a crazed madman. It was very strange. He then proceeded to tell me that he had been missing out on the electronic music scene because he had taken up the fiddle. Not only that, but he actually NAMED his fiddle Ramus. Who names their instrument?! But more than that, who plays the fiddle?! I was truly puzzled. And why was he telling me this?! Nevertheless, I think the event was an eye-opening one for him in which he realized that the hard beats and high-pitched screams of a computer screen were much more creative than the coordinated strokes of a guitar string by a regular human being. I mean, duh.
Awkward guy and non-awkward girl
It didn’t take long before the intense pain of my bleeding feet overrode the numbing effect of 40% alcohol, however, and I could no longer take another second in my glitzy heels. Naturally, I ripped them off and began marching around the Rogers Centre shoeless. No one gave me a second look, of course, since you can do pretty much anything at a Deadmau5 concert without it seeming weird (except maybe stand still and be sober. That would look awkward). I woke up the next morning on a glitter-stained couch with a pounding headache, black makeup all over my face and extremely dirty feet, but as soon as I got up and stumbled around, I noticed one thing that set this morning apart from those of the last six weeks. My shin! It didn’t hurt! I was incredulous. After an entire day of zero pain, I started to get pretty excited. Perhaps it was REALLY on the mend?
It’s been a week since then, and it is still feeling good. I feel a bit of stiffness when I swim, but no pain at all even on the elliptical. It is pretty awesome. I don’t want to start back before it’s perfect so I’m doing my resistance exercises every other day and gradually building up more strength in the muscle. What’s even better to know is that my native lifestyle seems to have a curative effect on torn shin muscles. Who would have thought?! Avoiding heels for the last six weeks was clearly my biggest mistake, and one that will not be repeated. So if anyone out there is struggling with a nagging injury and doesn’t understand why it won’t heal despite their best efforts, perhaps you should try wearing some high-heels, taking numerous shots of vodka (within a shot-taking competition for best effects), listening to some rave music and spending five to eight hours dancing your ass off until your feet bleed. (Oh, but make sure you tape it up. While drunk.) Worked for me!
Woot is right. Awesome stuff!