It’s Just a Flesh Wound.

You don’t really want to see it uncovered.

Thursday I, once again, cut my thumb on the mandolin. Dumb move. This is the third time. It still hurts. No carrot slice is worth flesh.

The cut is on the side of my thumb and it’s very inconvenient. I feel happy that I don’t have contacts to take out anymore because that would be very difficult. I managed to still put my soup together slowly with the cut but it made it hard.

Once upon a time I also broke my right arm and got it cast in a very awkward position (think C3PO). I couldn’t drive, put my hair in a ponytail, take off my bra. And just like now with this thumb thing? It made wiping my ass annoying. 

I’m right handed. I do things with both hands together but I rely on that right hand for most everything. Things can be done with my left hand. It just takes longer and feels strange, for awhile anyway.

I recall getting better at eating with my left hand (except chopsticks), having legible penmanship left handed after awhile, even figuring out contacts during my 8 weeks in a cast. I know that all the little movements my thumb helps with are going to get compensated for and in a couple weeks this will be scarred over and filled in.

This is a good lesson for me that shit happens to make things inconvenient. And getting a cut on the thumb may seem like a big annoyance but in the grand scheme of things? This is a drop in the bucket. Since I’ve done this 3 times now maybe I’ll hold on to what I can learn.

⚙There’s always other ways to do stuff.
⚙It might take longer but it will get done.
⚙Muscle memory is constantly created.
⚙Porcelain is sharp.
⚙Keep it clean, keep it covered is a decent mantra.
⚙Be grateful for every part of your body and how it works together.
⚙If it doesn’t work together so well, you’ll figure it out.
⚙You can’t rush healing.
⚙Normal is always changing, you are always adjusting to your current state.

The Run I Didn’t Run

I was supposed to run the Rock ‘N’ Roll Half Marathon in Vegas today (well, at time of writing it was yesterday).  I didn’t run.  I didn’t even walk.  Despite being very undertrained – I’ve been putting in sporadic treadmill sessions – and having plantar fasciitis and general ankle aching, I was going to woman up and do 13.1.

Thanks to Patrick for carrying Kurt’s remembrance bib.

There were 2 things that put me over the edge to wanting to do this anyway, aside from just being a badass chick.  The first is, this run benefits the Crohn’s and Colitis Foundation and my dear friend Kurt passed away from Crohn’s related complications.  Crohn’s also impacts several friends, sorority sisters, and children of friends.  So I wanted to do it for them.

The second reason I wanted to run anyway is last year I made a friend in my corral for the 10K.  Lynnette and I had a lot of fun, even when we got sort of lost and had to double back to actually finish the 10K.  We had made plans to do the half together and I didn’t want to let her down.  She’s super cool and I was looking forward to spending time with her again.

So what pushed me over the edge?  Over the last 2 days I walked around Las Vegas in supportive shoes and recover flip flops, yet – by yesterday afternoon I was getting some knee pain.  Overall I did early 20 miles in those 2 days, which is quite a bit more than I expected.  The knee pain got worse overnight.  I got a brace, started icing, elevated it, rested it, but close to race time, I was still in a lot of pain and hobbling.  If it had been a 5K, I probably would have sucked it up.  But with 4 times that distance, I decided that this would have to be a race I’d sit out.

So I DNFed this one.  Heck, I didn’t even start.  I got some great advice in the Expo for my plantar fasciitis.  Once I’m back home I’m full throttle on getting that healed because it’s really impacting my training negatively.  In general, taking care of my soft tissue needs to be a priority because, hey, I’m not getting any younger.  Knee, feet, ankles, they are all going to be well taken care of.

And June will be here before I know it.  This may not have been my first half marathon – but maybe it’s because I had more things to learn.  Listening to my body is important.  If I’m going to keep improving the world one cup of coffee at a time, I’m going to have to stand.  Busted knees aren’t good with that.

I have a feeling Kurt would have thought I was insane for wanting to do a half marathon.  But, it was important to me that the remembrance bib be worn, so Patrick wore it for me.  I hope I get to come back some other time and do this race right.