How To Bruise Your Penis
By Me
About a week ago I decided to devote more of my time to exploring the natural wonders of Colorado. I realized that in the almost three years I’ve been here, I have barely taken advantage of what this great state has to offer. I’ve been busy. I’ve been volunteering and working like a maniac. Plus, I devoted a lot to my last relationship. There wasn’t time for my much-loved climbing, hiking, biking, camping, and fishing. Well that is already changing.
My good friend Taylor likes to bike. He road bikes, mountain bikes, and races. For goodness sake, the guy does Cyclocross:
(A special thanks to “FacePubes” for uploading that cinematic treat (really guy? FacePubes?)).
Anyway, Taylor is a real biker.
Me, on the other hand, yeah, I own a bike. But like I wrote above, I’m going to make love to the mountains more.
So Taylor and I go mountain biking. It’s Tuesday, our second time in a week and we head up to Lair of the Bear in Morrison. It’s a gorgeous day and after unloading our bikes, we start up the mountain. The first mile or so is pretty flat, pretty charming really, as it runs next to a stream. We also ride through part of the stream, which makes me feel like, for just a second, I’m a badass mountain biker.
But I’m not a badass mountain biker. I’m just a regular guy who craves the adrenaline transfusion I get when I do something that flirts with bodily harm.
We start climbing the mountain, and I pretty much instantly wish I would’ve let Taylor’s call go to voicemail. Hiking up a mountain can be tough, but climbing one on a bike is fucking hard work. It’s not like my legs were in pain. They weren’t. I’ve been riding the bike at the gym, hard. But nothing that sits in one place in front of flat screens can prepare you for biking up a trail covered in dirt, grass and rocks. It was knock-the-breath-out-of-you, sputter-out-words exhausting. I definitely was not in shape for this.
But we rode on. I caught a break now and then. And Taylor was cool. We caught this amazing down slope, packed-hard dirt that banked left and right. I started to enjoy myself. “Shit, that wasn’t so bad,” I started to think, and the rest of the ride was pretty fun. Even when I bruised my penis.
On the way back, we were riding up this track that was very rocky. I tried to power through it, but hit a rock head on, throwing my man region straight into the stem of the bike. The stem is where the bike has this amazing little knob right behind the middle of the handlebars—basically a perfect creation to jam your groin into.
For it was at this juncture in our story, ladies and gentleman, that Brad increases is self-allotted break time significantly. So long did I take, nursing the horrible blow, thanking God it didn’t hit my man beans, that Taylor said he sped ahead, waited, got off his bike, took a leak in the woods, returned to his bike, and waited some more. When I finally caught up, I stopped and told him that “I nailed my penis on the fucking thing, on the thing behind (cough, cough) the handlebars. (Cough). Oh yeah, the stem. Whatever."
After asking if I was alright, and receiving a "Yeah, I'll be fine," he just laughed, which didn't offend me in the least. Ten minutes ago, when my loins were screaming with pain, it wasn't funny. But now, even with the Penis Ache Alert still at level Orange, it is pretty funny.
My Reflexologist had a good laugh when I told her the story, telling me that she'll work some inflammation points in hopes of reducing the PAA to level Yellow. I wondered aloud if it was going to give me an erection. She laughed at that as well. Since she's flipping amazing, it worked, and although there's still a little discomfort when I sit down wrong, I'm happy to announce that my magic maker is doing much better.
Thanks for all the prayers.
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