Going on the Juice
It is 3:17 a.m., and I am ready to work out like a madman.
This all started a couple of weeeks ago, when I was attacked by vicious poison oak in the wilds of my back yard. Judging by the pattern of the rash that developed, the poison oak apparently attempted to strangle me. I do not remember seeing any unusual or threatening plant life at the time, but the result is unmistakable. My beloved wife has since instructed me in the ancient axiom: "Leaves of three, let it be." (Or as the A-Train, my three-year-old son, has adapted it: "If it has three yeaves, yeave it ahyone." I see no reason to correct him.)
At any rate, I spent the next week and a half applying over-the-counter drugs and studiously not scratching. Then the rest of my body broke out, and my resolve broke with it. The beloved wife finally suggested in the pre-dawn hours a couple of days ago that, with the welts and the scratching I was beginning to look and sound like a cross between a meth addict and the Elephant Man, so I called the doctor.
My introduction to steroids came in the mid-1980s, when South Carolina football player Tommy Chaiken wrote about them in Sports Illustrated. "The thing they don't tell you," he wrote then, "is that they work." You can work out longer and better, he said, and you feel a godlike power that dovetails nicely with the increased aggression. Still, in my personal risk/benefit analysis, the threat of shrunken testicles alone have always enough to outweigh any benefit.
But now, in the wake of Canseco-gate and Congressional hearings on elimination of steroid cheats, I was given a medically sanctioned chance to give steroids a brief try. As a bonus, I would not have to saw off all of my limbs, which was looking more and more viable as plan to stop the freaking itching.
So I started last night. Five day course; decreasing dosage. And at 2:30 a.m., I was awake, ready to crawl right out of my skin and begin hefting things. I will keep you apprised of developments.
This all started a couple of weeeks ago, when I was attacked by vicious poison oak in the wilds of my back yard. Judging by the pattern of the rash that developed, the poison oak apparently attempted to strangle me. I do not remember seeing any unusual or threatening plant life at the time, but the result is unmistakable. My beloved wife has since instructed me in the ancient axiom: "Leaves of three, let it be." (Or as the A-Train, my three-year-old son, has adapted it: "If it has three yeaves, yeave it ahyone." I see no reason to correct him.)
At any rate, I spent the next week and a half applying over-the-counter drugs and studiously not scratching. Then the rest of my body broke out, and my resolve broke with it. The beloved wife finally suggested in the pre-dawn hours a couple of days ago that, with the welts and the scratching I was beginning to look and sound like a cross between a meth addict and the Elephant Man, so I called the doctor.
My introduction to steroids came in the mid-1980s, when South Carolina football player Tommy Chaiken wrote about them in Sports Illustrated. "The thing they don't tell you," he wrote then, "is that they work." You can work out longer and better, he said, and you feel a godlike power that dovetails nicely with the increased aggression. Still, in my personal risk/benefit analysis, the threat of shrunken testicles alone have always enough to outweigh any benefit.
But now, in the wake of Canseco-gate and Congressional hearings on elimination of steroid cheats, I was given a medically sanctioned chance to give steroids a brief try. As a bonus, I would not have to saw off all of my limbs, which was looking more and more viable as plan to stop the freaking itching.
So I started last night. Five day course; decreasing dosage. And at 2:30 a.m., I was awake, ready to crawl right out of my skin and begin hefting things. I will keep you apprised of developments.
posted by Derek the Great at 3:17 AM
2 Comments:
You FINALLY got the excuse you were waiting for. Be sure to keep us apprised of the status of your crushing pythons.
I remember Chaiken. In fact I remember the whole dc metropolitan area being infested with steriods during that era.
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