Last week when I did my Monday workout I pulled my groin muscle doing lunges in my warmup. It didn’t help that I followed that with a 5 x 5 set of sumo deadlifts. I’ve been laying off everything, hoping it will heal and up until Sunday it was fine. Then I decided to go up a set of stairs two at a time. Not the best idea I’ve ever had, and I’ve had some bad ones.
So, a little time off to heal that up is in order.
Every time I think about it I think of the interview I heard some athlete give where he rambled on and on about his groin. He had such a thick southern accent that it sounded like he was saying “Mah growin.” It elevated an otherwise boring and banal conversation to epic heights of hilarity. Now I can’t get that out of my head. The phrase, that is, not his growin. I have no problem getting his growin out of my head.
OK, I’m just going to stop, because that gets worse the more I go on.
Speaking of southern accents, my cousin married a guy from deep, deep in the heart of Texas and when he first moved up here no one could understand what he was saying. He’d say he was going to bawl some water or change the awl and we’d stare at him and you could tell everyone was thinking one thing: “Is this man speaking English?”
The same thing happened to me when I went to college. I grew up on a Reservation in South Dakota, so I had a Native-American–Norwegian–German accent going on. My speech was liberally sprinkled with eeza’s, enna’s and uffda’s. I remember getting that same look when I opened my mouth to talk: “Is this girl speaking English?”
Good thing I went to college in Nebraska. I can’t imagine what they would have thought of me in, say, Boston.
“Uffda, that test was hahhhd. Enna?”