Physio is going
allright. But they're onto me vis a vis the gatorade.
I loathe
gatorade. And powerade, and all the other permutations of the
stuff. Whatever flavor you try, it tastes like liquid metallic orange
sick. And it does really yuchy things to your teeth.
However, the
consultant physician in charge of the physical rehabilitation department at the
Clinica Alemana is obsessed with the stuff. I'm under instructions to drink an
entire bottle before I arrive, and to drink at least one more during the
session and to refill constantly as I go.
When I arrive and
they ask me "did you drink before you came?" I nod and lie pleasantly
through my teeth. I'm all for keeping
rehydrated, but there's no fun in doing floor exercises with a liter and a half
of water sloshing around your tummy. The stomach crunches turn out
strange.
As it goes, I
conveniently 'forget' to bring gatorade once a week, on average, and putter
along very happily with sensible amounts of plain water. But last Friday, after
a muscle spasm at the end of the session that they
attributed directly to a lack of gatorade in my system, they told me about
gatorade powders that you can buy and keep as reserve in the pantry.
"Buy some,
Tabubilgirl! Today!"
So this morning when
I was heading out to my session and realized I'd forgotten to put gatorade on
the shopping list again, I grabbed an old packet of Australian rehydration
salts, dumped it into a water bottle and sailed out of the house.
At physio I proudly
waved my bottle of cloudy-colored water at Soledad (my very own physical
therapist) and sang out that I'd taken up her suggestion and was trying out the
powders -
"Isn't that
NICE." She said sweetly - and pinned me to a floor mat with a laser
glare.
"And now you know what you can do? You can bring a box in here and keep it in the closet for when you forget!!!!! Isn't THAT nice?!?!"
"And now you know what you can do? You can bring a box in here and keep it in the closet for when you forget!!!!! Isn't THAT nice?!?!"
Sigh. That's
called being Busted.
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