Healing Powder

The summer of my sophmore year in college, I worked full-time as a camp counselor at Sky Ranch in Van, Texas. My months there revolved completely around a very rigorous schedule of outdoor activities. My normal daily routine of eating, sleeping, studying, and socializing was replaced with swimming, sailing, canoeing, jet-skiing, repelling, belaying, rifle-shooting, softball hitting, horse riding, ladder climbing, and waterslide sliding (and this was just on Tuesdays and Thursdays). Needless to say, my not-so-much-in-shape-but-still-smokin-hot body had it's ass kicked up over its shoulders repeatedly while I was there.

The most painful of the afore-mentioned ass-kickings was shin splints. I developed these about a month into the summer. Having never been what you (or anyone) would call an athlete, I had never experienced such agonizing soreness in my legs. Because we counselors worked 23 hours a day, the only relief I found was in bi-daily trips to the nurse with my campers. Any kids in our cabin that were on meds had to be marched to the far side of the campus twice a day for administration of their Ritalin, Benedryl, Viagra....whatever the case was. Once arriving at the nurse's cabin, we would inevitably have to wait for 10-30 minutes while the other kids had their turns. I took advantage of these waits by putting my feet up and icing my legs with those sea blue gelly freezer pack thingys. It was 15 mintues of pure heaven.

My buddy and fellow counselor, Nate, was often at the nurse with his campers at the same time I was. During the time of my shin splints, he himself was suffering from some ongoing ailment that I can't recall. So, we would keep each other company for the random 20 second intervals when our kids weren't pulling on our hair or asking us to recite the names of all the North American Indian tribes (for which all of our cabins were named).

Most of the guys that worked at Sky Ranch carried bottles of Gold Bond powder around with them at all times. It was a bit of a camp-wide quip. You'd see it sticking out of the back of someone's swim trunks or tucked into a backpack.....flashes of that yellow label were everywhere. At the age of nineteen, I was pretty unfamiliar with the common male uses of Gold Bond. I suppose the reality of it had occurred to me at some point, but, apparently, I hadn't spent much time comtemplating the issue.

It was one day in the nurse's cabin that Nate inquired more intently than normal about my ailing shins. I reported that the ice packs helped temporarily, but I was still in pain most of the time. "Well, have you tried Gold Bond? You know that's good for shin splints, right?"

Now, I wasn't COMPLETELY naive. I was immediately suspicious. But Nate was just so convincing...so innocent and sincere in his offer to let me borrow his precious powder. "Will it really help, Nate, or are you just trying to make me look dumb?" He swore it wasn't a joke....why else would he carry a bottle of the stuff around with him all the time? Desperate for alleviation, I gave in. My legs were damp from the prespiration of the ice packs that had been resting there, and when he poured the powder on, it stuck in uneven, clumped patterns. I tried rubbing it in, to no avail. "Oh, just leave it that way", Nate urged. "It will sink in."

I walked around for the rest of the day covered in what looked like sugar cookie dough. I got some strange looks, and lots of questions, but I responded each time by holding up the bottle that Nate had let me borrow. I was aware that I looked like an idiot, and seriously considered washing off. But the funny thing was, my legs had actually started to feel notably better.

For a couple of days, I continued with Nate's amateur prescription. He finally approached me with a meek smile on his face. "So, how are your legs feeling?" I informed him that they were much better, thank you very much. Gently grabbing me by the elbow, choking back quiet laughter, he whispered in my ear, "Allison, Gold Bond doesn't really help shin splints."
Of course, I defensively explained that I knew the whole time that the treatment was a facade...that I was doing it just to be funny. As to whether or not he believed my guise; who knows. But at least he was kind enough to let me think he did.

Seriously, though......Gold Bond really does help shin spints.