It’s amazing the stupid things a smart woman sometimes does.
Like me, for example. I took a two-month exercise hiatus last fall while I pounded out rewrites on two books and wrote the first draft of a third.
My main source of exercise, normally, is bicycling. I have found my (excuse me for bluntness, here) crotch is my bicycling Achilles heel. About the only time it doesn’t hurt is when I’ve put enough miles on it to achieve the consistency of old shoe leather. Any break in the training routine and rawhide turns to flannel. Not good. Two months off is definitely a significant break.
So my husband Eric and I hopped on the bikes the week after I completed Nanowrimo. The ride went fine for awhile, but, as expected, my nether region failed first. The next day I had abraded areas — not scabs, per se, and certainly not open wounds, but scabbish and openish. Technically, the areas of interest were east and west of the crotch. Underneath, I was bruised. So, I thought a little topical relief was in order. I recalled the awesome soothing capabilities of Aspercreme.
“Eric, do we have Aspercreme for my hoochie coochie?” I asked.
“You’re not supposed to use it anywhere near your hoochie coochie.” His tone of voice implied I was a lovable yet simple creature with an IQ of 37. People tell us we’re one of those couples who make you want to puke, so I assumed positively that he wasn’t patronizing me.
I responded rationally. “Well, I’m not putting it ON my hoochie, more like an inch or two away. And I would never use Icy Hot or Ben Gay, just Aspercreme.”
“Pamela, this is a bad idea.” He flipped the channels, looking for the Arizona Cardinals.
Obviously, it was not his crotch in extreme distress.
I went in search of Aspercreme. I couldn’t find any. But I did find Nuprin, which I was pretty sure was the same thing, although I’ll admit I didn’t read the directions all that well, because it was dark. We ride the bikes on our indoor training stands with the lights off in the living room while we watch football or old “24” episodes, and Eric was already riding. So, ever so carefully, I applied the Nuprin only in the exact non-hoochie areas that hurt.
“Eric, it feels fine.” I hopped on the bike and started pedaling.
My little bruisy areas began to feel hot. The warming sensation was quite pleasant and the pain eased.
“I’m rockin’, honey, but this is slightly more like Icy Hot than Aspercreme,” I said.
The warming sensation spread. It grew hotter. Suddenly, the careful, limited topical application migrated. Once it started, it went viral.
“OH MY GOD!” I hollered.
“What now?” Eric sighed asked lovingly.
“It’s like somebody stuck a hot poker up my vajayjay!!”
“There are so many things I could say right now, but I’ll restrain myself.”
“The Nuprin is crawling up my personal parts, and it’s not funny.”
“What did the directions say?”
“‘Not near mucous membranes.’ But it’s not like I stuck it up my nose.”
“Maybe it ought to say ‘Hey Pamela, that means not within two inches of any orifice, including but not limited to your hoochie.”
“Exactly. But it didn’t. Shame on them.”
We rode in semi-silence, the only sound my occasional moans. But you know what? That damn stuff worked. My you-know-what hurt so bad that I didn’t notice my bruisey spots at all anymore.
Kids, don’t try this at home.
Oh, and before anyone panics on my behalf, my vajayjay did not sustain any permanent injuries in this incident.
p.s. I think Eric should DEFINITELY add this to his top 10 bicycling tips post.
p.p.s. I reposted this today in honor of Team #lovingthebike, of which I am a part, and the #30daysofbiking challenge for April.