Girls Rule, Boys Drool!

Today, for the last hour of our weekly didactic session, the students in the ambulatory medicine clerkship met with diabetes educators, who taught us how to test our blood sugar and give ourselves insulin shots (we used saline, not insulin). It's a great thing to have done--we are, after all, going to be sentencing patients to a lifetime of self-inflicted needlesticks: blood sugar testing and insulin injections, often multiple times per day. Who are we to tell people it's not a big deal, if we haven't tried it ourselves? That was my thought, anyway. But people were amazingly squirmy and reluctant to stick themselves. And there were lots of icky pained faces as we pricked our fingers and squeezed out a little drop of blood.

And, surprise surprise, these people were male. It's something I've noticed over time: the jock-iest boys tend to be the biggest wimps about things like needlesticks and IV insertions. They go pale and make faces. They laugh uncomfortably. They all but chicken out.

In high school, as soon as I turned 17, I donated blood every 2 months at our school's blood drive. My friends and I would wear our "I saved a life" and "I gave blood" pins around after donating, and we would ask the large athletic boys who jocked for our attention: why didn't you give blood? And boy, the excuses!

And then--I'll never forget this--one day, there was an earthquake during Trigonometry. My class had a good number of jocks. It was football season, and I think it was a Friday/game day. Which meant the athletes were wearing their bright jerseys to school. I sat towards the back right corner of the room, so I could see the backs & heads of pretty much everyone in class. I remember the sound coming first--that deep rumbly sound that precedes the actual ground shaking. And I remember seeing all those huge purple & gold numbered jerseys fly to the ground as the rest of the class looked around at each other, like, "earthquake?"... and then only ducked & covered as our teacher yelled at us to do so.

So my anecdotal evidence proves: boys are wimpy.

Anyway. There's a random Monday night story for ya.

Fitness update:
Sun 2/08 - 20min bike (E) / elliptical (me), arms #1
Tue 2/10 - 30min stairmaster, hardcore legs
Wed 2/11 - walked ~3mi home from work through the park (it was gorgeous out!)
Thur 2/12 - 30min treadmill, arm workout #2 (this sh*t kills me, yo)
Sat 2/14 - 15min treadmill (we were short on time bc of our anti-VD plans)
Sun 2/15 - 60min run. At 20min I got bored & snuck to the dance studio for about 10 minutes and did turns/leaps
Mon 2/16 - 25min Cardio Blast, 30min Shred with Jillian. CRAZY INTENSE! holymoly!

I'm sick of exercising. Pass the ice cream, please.