Tuesday, November 18, 2014

Not Fixing the Problem


Ugh.  After work last night I went running at the city park. I chose the park because light was fading.  It was cold enough that burning lungs gave me pause.  The path was icy, but nothing I couldn't handle with my inherent surefootedness. 

Halfway through the first lap I strode over a narrow ribbon of ice.  I was beginning to think I should cut the run short. Around the last horn I saw some standing water in a hard turn of the trail.  I leapt deer-like over the water and landed lightly on a snot-slick patch of black ice.  My right wrist took the brunt of my crash landing though I'm wearing a badge of road rash on my hip as well.

I grumbled loudly as I stood up.  I went ahead and stopped Strava and started walking toward the car.  My hip burned but my wrist seemed okay.  I stepped carefully over a couple other ice ribbons across the trail and was glad I had "decided" to end my run.

The mental berating echoed the time I crashed on the railroad tracks in Golden on my bike and the time I sprained my ankle trailrunning at Pilot Knob.  Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! is the chant I repeated.

When I tried to turn the key in the car ignition the pain flared in my wrist.  Shifting was tricky.  By the time I got home it was stiffening.  I wasn't sure if it was broken or merely sprained.  I gimped around all evening worrying that I’d not be able to sleep with a wrecked appendage.  I did go ahead and text my supervisor to let him know I’d be in after I visited the X-ray shop here in town.

Then this morning out of the fog of a nice deep sleep I heard Mandy blurt: “Crap!”

“What’s up?” I mumbled, though my slowly waking brain almost knew what was coming.

“There’s no school,” she seethed.

“It’s okay, I’ll just take the day off,” I solved, and burrowed deeper into my pillow.

When I finally did drag my sorry self out of bed I noticed I had better range of motion and less pain in my wrist.  Less pain, but it’s still limiting what I can do.  I managed to fix myself and the kids eggs and toast for breakfast.  I’ve managed to do most everything I’ve needed this morning, but it’s obvious that I won’t be visiting the gym or riding my mountain bike for a few days (hopefully not weeks).

It was my right wrist, and many of you would be groaning in sympathy until I told you I’m “left-handed,” but then groaning again once I told you that it’s only a technicality and like many lefties I’m actually right-hand dominant.  At least I can still text and type!


So now you know why today’s post is late and of little substance.  I keep wondering what Hemingway would do. 

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