The first Thanksgiving where Turkey Trot's began...

A quick note to the undoubtedly plentiful “would be assassins” waiting for an opportune moment to take me out: You missed me! I changed it up this year.

Not really, but it would be cool if there were many dark assassins out to get me, as opposed to the robots that really are, but that’s another post entirely.

It’s Thanksgiving Day today and usually to get in a workout mostly as means to remove some guilt from the countless calories I will consume in one sitting I would, in years past, be running the Naperville Noon Lions Turkey Trot. However this year in an attempt to change things up this year I ran a small unofficial race/run… trot. Still in Naperville but with a lot less people, a good cause and better surface and scenery; The Turkey Club 5K. This was an impromptu alternative fun run put on by local pro triathlete Jenny Garrison at the Springbrook Trail Forest Preserve as a way to escape the huddled masses of the Noon Lions race (run.. fun run… trot… I never know what to call these things, am I racing? Or just running… or has it devolved into a trot? Trot may rhyme but it sounds pathetic.) Regardless it was inexpensive, and the toy you donated went to a good cause, The Aurora Holiday Gift Mart for which I can at least know what I sponsoring. I don’t even know what a “Noon Lion” is, do you?

As the title of this post suggests this was the first extended run I have done since the marathon back in October, 47 days to be exact, my first real attempt to “kick the tires.” If you have been reading you will know that recently I’ve been resting this bum knee, while all manner of poking, prodding and atomic scanning was preformed to determine the root cause of the pain I felt. As it turns out, the obvious prescription of rest, ice, and stretching my hamstring, was all it took to get me up and “running” again (pardon the pun). Of course that prescription as any (I use this term loosely) “athlete” knows stopping training, (READ: loosing hard earned fitness) is the toughest pill to swallow, but I took a spoonful of sugar and let medicine go down. And after this short run I have to say it was the right move. In the past three days I have completed the triumvirate, I rode on Tuesday, swam on Wednesday, and ran on Thursday. This was a good thing.

The run was a good wake up call and a great test on a few levels.

1. I needed to see how my knee would hold up under load.
2. I needed to see how much my run fitness had dropped off.
3. I needed to see how my new cold weather run gear would perform on a chilly day.
4. I needed to see if my knee would suffer any lingering.

I would have to say the results looked promising. Not surprisingly most important on this list was the stress on my knee, 3.1 miles was plenty.

RACE REPORT:
In what I felt was both figuratively and literally appropriate, the Start Line was an ironic “line drawn in the sand” no chip mat here, and a mass start. I positioned myself near the front, why I don’t know but it was done with ease, no shoving needed. It was a small race. BAM! I we were off and like and idiot who didn’t know his pace I of course went out entirely too fast, not in the lead but in 3rd place. Feeling good at the start I glanced at my watch as I ran the first half mile, 6:20/mile pace, wow was I on fire? I didn’t think I would be able to even hit that speed? As it turns out that was way too fast a pace for me to keep with as many intangibles as I had, and around the 3/4 mark I felt that familiar feeling again… Darn it all if that knee pain didn’t come right back to where it was last month. Looking at the Garmin I can see the jump in heart rate as the thought of more down time came racing through my mind. But the pain plateaued and just at the bottom of a small rolling hill I realized that my form had fallen off, weak legs had caused me to heal crash as opposed to running with a more forward running style. With the pain at it peak I stopped briefly to rub out and issue and see if the pain would subside, it did, and with diminished pain I set out again this time mindful of my running position. I forgot to mention, at this point I was sucking wind too and now in fifth or sixth place.

Not caring about placement anymore I carried on and tried hard to focus on running properly, and what do you know, like a light switch the pain went away. Keeping myself in the proper form was difficult at first, I could tell both my run fitness and leg strength needed work but there wasn’t any pain, so I was happy. I was sweating bullets at this point, over dressed as usual, so there was no worry about the run gear, so all I needed to know now was how well my fitness would hold up under stress. To that end I can’t complain, while I was sucking wind throughout, I went out too fast remember, according to my Garmin, I ran the first mile fast, the second mile a little slower, but regained first mile pace on the last mile. I can be satisfied with that, and lends credence to my thought about proper running form both being better for my knee and as it turns out faster. That’s the report, my officially unofficial time has yet to be posted but the truly unofficial time off my Garmin was 22:17. While this is well off a result I would call acceptable, it was good test, with what seems like no lingering effects, a great place to start.

On a side note in an effort to promote a more forward, (READ: less heal strike) running form I think I am going buy a pair or Newton Running shoes, it was something I was thinking about before this trot race but furhter resolved on the third leg this morning.

Finally I would like to thank the Jenny Garrison, and her Mom for putting on a fine race, and a nice alternative to the hordes we are all accustomed to, it was much appreciated. And should you want more promotion next year let me know.

Now it’s time for turkey. (READ: Now it’s time for pecan pie and somewhere in the neighborhood of 3000 calories per plate of food followed by a mild myocardial infarction, that I will hope the tryptophan can allow me to sleep through)

According to my MRI this is a mostly unremarkable knee. I say it's pretty sweet lookin' eh?.

The results are as follows: A tiny amount of fluid within the semimembranosus/medial gastrocnemius bursa.

What the…? The doctor printed out a more layman’s term for it; Goosefoot (Pes Anserine) Bursitis of the Knee. Basically there is bursitis on the inside edge of my knee with a bit a fluid, so with rest, ice, stretching my hammy, and with some pharmacological help (anti-inflammatory medicine) I should get beyond this.

As best as can been seen in the MRI, there is no cartilage damage, stress injury, or worst of all a tear in my meniscus. All good. I did take minor offense that my anterior and posterior cruciate, medial and fibular collateral ligaments, popliteus tendon, and bone marrow, were noted as UNREMARKABLE.

Unremarkable!? They should punch these reports up a bit and say things like, “…and bone marrow, were noted as looking super awesome. This is obviously the MRI of dashing and handsome fellow. I thoroughly enjoyed reading Mr. Price’s MRI, I laughed, I cried. It was a real page turner.” But that would be too much to ask, and I’m happy just to have gotten the go ahead to return (albeit slowly) to some training.

In the end I’m happy to be 1 for 2 in the MRI category. It should be noted to that the doctor took the right approach upon entering the room, wasting no time, the first words out of his mouth were “Good news on your MRI…” So there were no long faces as he dragged out my diagnosis. All positives, and that’s what I need to hear right now.

I've never looked this happy on a treadmill!

A bit of back story on an El Niño Event: An El Niño Event is defined as a difference in the surface temperature of the Pacific Ocean as it compares to the average, lasting over five months. Generally considered the warming of the surface temperature.

What then, you ask is a La Niña? That’s generally the cooling.

It’s also a little Spanish boy, and I’m certain somewhere, the name of a delicious soup and sandwich combo. Everything is a sandwich somewhere, and like most sandwiches are just waiting for me to eat. But sandwiches are worthy of their own post, so they will have to wait, this is talkin’ bout the weather. The stuff small talk is made of…

No matter how delicious the sandwich sounds I personally don’t much care what causes an El Niño. I’m sure global warming (yes, I know it’s technically called Climate Change) can be blamed, but you can blame that for a lot of stuff. I even have an Official Presidential Order blaming it for my back injury and recent bought of tendinitis (to be honest El Presidente Fernando Armindo Lugo Mendez or Paraguay – but still a President – only cost me $20) and it was more than justified. But honestly I don’t care what caused it, I just hope it continues through our winter season. To be honest no one at this point really knows what the cause is, or is saying, whether it’s global warming, HARP (High Frequency Active Auroral Research Program), or just the Chinese developing weather weaponry to destabilize Western interests -If you think I’m crazy CLICK HERE – It just signals, on average in Chicago, not only less precipitation (read: less snow) in late fall and winter, but warmer temperatures. This El Niño is great news for those of us who either can’t stand treadmills or love to run outside year-round. I would fall in both those categories. Either that or it’s bad news for the good old US of A and diplomatic relations with our co-dependent “friends” in the far East.

Needless to say the reports of the building heat in Pacific Ocean surface temperatures this summer had all the weather nerds protractors’ pointed skyward and me hoping the trend would continue for purely selfish reasons, running. We had a great summer for building some serious mileage with the cooler summer temperatures, seriously you all hit the training lottery I would have been in heaven, if I could have run, at times even just to crawl would have been nice, but heaven none the less. That is of course unless you were training for the Ironman World Championships, in which you lacked the oppressive heat and humidity we are accustomed to in August, thereby acclimatizing you to the brutal day you would endure in Kona. But I don’t feel bad for anyone who gets to run Ironman Hawaii, it’s a privileged experience, no complaining allowed.

But I missed all the good weather this summer, and look forward to building my run fitness back to nominal levels. Considering how I ran outside all last winter (one of the snowiest on record) I’m due for some good running weather. I don’t know what the future will bring, the El Niño could have no effect and I’ll just have to deal, but I’m hopeful and hungry and not just for and a good sandwich.

Oh and in case your wondering what HARP is or a complete conspiracy nut CLICK HERE and you can read all about the serious bass they are pumping out at their Ultra-Low Frequency Radio Array messing with our ionosphere. Let’s hope they never hit the a ehem… brown note on that thing! One word: messy.

But Cheers to El Niño, your green card is cleared for entry.

Quiet you!

Having no plan goes thusly: If I felt like only running a half-marathon I would only run 13.1 miles, then quit. If I felt like 16 miles was plenty, I would stop at 16, no worries and so on… etc. Mind you I did promise myself if my trick back went all Quasimodo (all contorted and hunched over like) at any point in the race I would stop. To be honest, I really felt if at any point after 13.1 miles as I knew I could run that far I would stop. I swear. There was one problem I didn’t anticipate however, my will is not as weak as I thought. Imagine that? I didn’t realize that in the actual race I would find it harder to get myself to quit and drop out like a sane person, than keep going despite that under increasing mileage my calves were tightening into something akin to beef jerky. This “strategy” would have been fine last April, but perhaps not this October where my lack of truly long runs and a summer rehabbing my old man-ish back led to my legs turning to stone around mile 18.

Regardless I finished the race, in unspectacular fashion of course.

The positive, my back never was a problem and I was elated. The negative, I seem to have lost the back issue and gained some patellar tendinitis in my knee, and I was dejected with the thought of more down time for recovery. Or worse. So my running has been on hiatus since the marathon, I can ride, swim and just about anything else, but running is on the outs until I get this licked. That’s a figure of speech not a medical prescription. If it were prescribed I would already be healed, I’m certain I could find a dog or vagrant to lick my knee for a few bucks and cure everything quickly. But it’s never that easy, fortunately it is more sanitary.

No running, that has been the story over the last month, including taking last week entirely off to give this knee time to fully heal. It feels like it has helped and hopefully I can get back to running in short order. Only time will tell, and time as been mum so far. But I will (pardon the pun) “run” a test again this week to see where I stand, or worse if I can’t.

But I’m hopeful, with an Ironman looming next summer I have to be in good health to get in the proper training. Not nursing a host of nagging injuries as I limp to the starting line as my trusty pooch cleans my knee caps.

Some lingering pain here and there, but nothing that lasts more than a few hours, nothing I can’t forget about on a long run. So I’m good, I would have to say, looking forward to next year, looking forward to racing as that was sorely missing from this year.

The new training tool that is on my mind as of late is a Computrainer, I need a way to measure power on the bike over the winter. It would be a better way to gauge my progress that heart rate, and push a little harder. I know I am leaving watts on the table every time I train indoors (and out but PowerTap will have to wait) and those watts equal better fitness.

Speaking of PowerTaps, there is a new game in town (or soon to be) in the power meter market. A company called MetriGear Inc. is releasing a pedal based power meter called Vector. I guess they debuted at InterBike 2009 a couple weeks ago, with a very clever take on where to measure power, inside the hollow spindle of your pedals. At the moment they are Speedplay only. Which is fine for me since I ride on Speedplay Zeroes, but sucks for the rest of the world. But I’m not the rest of the world as I am sure you have gathered by now. The two nicest parts about this unit is that you can train and race on this system, and it’s ANT+ compatible, so it can work with your Garmin Edge 705, Forerunner 310XT, or my favorite the new Garmin Edge 500, a smaller, no fuss, bike computer. Basically the 705 without the maps. Honestly, how often are you riding that your require a map to get you home? Clever, but often more than is required. Will it supplant the PowerTap, SRM, and now Quarq’s of the bike world? Only time and some hard miles will tell if this system can hold up the rigor of many long seasons (and if they can get the price:precision ratio right) but it worth a look.

You can check them out here:

METRIGEAR

On another note despite my objections to the contrary I recently turned 35 (yes… 35) and discovered I am old. I knew it would come, and penultimate moment of realization of this fact came the other day. It’s easy to tell when you’ve gotten old, it’s when you see what might be a teenager, one you don’t even know, and now being old, you just can’t understand what they did to their hair, or why, or even comprehend the lineage of hair styles that led up to this mess, and then you get slightly angry when you see it. Then think to yourself “What do your parents think about that?” Whoa! Did I just think that? I was ready yell “Get off my lawn ya darn hippie!” I knew I was old at this point, out of touch with kids today, the only fortunate thing is with getting older is you get to acceptance a lot quicker and go about your day. I dwelled more on the fact that I THOUGHT the hairstyle (don’t get me started on the clothes) looked ridiculous, than the style itself.

So I am out of touch with the youth of today, which I guess I can accept as it was bound to happen sooner or later.

This is My-Brain-On-Tri...

Well it’s been exactly three months since my last post. To be honest I wasn’t sure I was going to continue a blog, to be even more honest there really wasn’t anything worth writing home about in that span either. But I figure what the hell, I will have little time in the coming months to mega-post (read: ramble on) as usual but more on that later, but I can quick post what new and “exciting.”

To recap, I herniated a disc between my L4 and L5 vertebra, and it hurt like hell. For a long time. It ruined my summer. Not that you could tell it was summer since it was so cool but still. Basically it went like this; I injured my back in the shower and was basically motionless for a few days, then physical therapy for few months (thanks again to Neil I never did get that shot in my back. Ugh! I hate needles) and haven’t slept on my stomach since this all began. Sleeping on your stomach is bad for your back apparently, and I’m all about what’s good for my back now. But I love sleeping on my stomach, so I have to put a pillow under my legs so I don’t flip in the middle of the night. But everything I do is about healing this darn back, it’s gone back and forth so much I am truly loosing it… Even more than usual.

So what have I been up to you ask? While I would love to say it was a like the montage sequence in Rocky 4, where I miraculously healed in two days, then trained my butt off in a frozen barn in Siberian, hanging by my feet pounding out sit-ups next a roaring fire made my abs of steel glisten. All to ready myself for a surprise Ironman, which I then won… I would love to say that, but unfortunately I don’t live in movie (God, I wish I did – I love movies and I know all the rules) rather I have spent the past three months like this:

End of June into beginning of July
No training and getting a little tummy. Lots of PT and stretching. No training? I was going NUTS!
Late July into Early August
Even fatter now, still no training, then later a wee bit of training (a little less nuts) but I was S.L.O.W. My fitness was in the toilet. It was pathetic.
Late August
Still in PT, training a bit more, still really, really really slow, and no swimming. Then ran the Pleasant Prairie triathlon; the sprint not the Olympic. The 750M swim KILLED ME! But I had the 2nd fastest bike split, which is more a comment on my competition than my ability. Then hung on for the run. I was like 36th or something. Whatever, I got a race in.
Early September
More training, lots of stretching and core work, got nuts and ran a Half-Marathon, I was slow but felt good, I was on my way. Oh yeah I was back to swimming twice a week.
Currently
Base training is back on, as I get my legs back; swimming is coming around too, but my bike power is down, I don’t have the numbers, but I can feel it.

In the mean time I went to see friends race Chicago Tri, road the Ironman course up in Madison one day with some friends, and basically have been clawing my way out of this slump. I guess because I feel things are getting back to “normal” I had an itch to write something. I still have a tiny bit of pain in my butt, and some residual muscle issues in my piriformis that I’m working on, but nothing that will stop me… So far.

Oh yeah I signed up for Ironman Canada 2010 too. Whoo-hoo! Penticton B.C. here I come… slowly.

On another note I would like to make a shout out to my buddy Chad who ran his first Ironman down in Louisville, my other buddy Jim who ran Louisville as well (even though I know he will never read this), and to Rick who ran his ass off at Ironman Wisconsin last weekend. It was bad-ass. Your all my heroes.

I’m sure there was more, however it doesn’t seem that way. All I know is I am hungry to get fit again, loose some weight. So that’s basically what’s been up.

Do I walk like this?

It has been almost a week since I was told that a major pain in my @#$#! was in fact caused by a herniated disc (a protrusion to be exact, rather than a tear) between L4 & L5, and as if it hadn’t happened already (as if I could have run, I can barely walk) I was going to need to take some time off. So for the past three weeks I have waited to resume regular training… and popping anti-inflammatory meds… and doing my best to not lift anything over 25 lbs… don’t forget laundry, lots of laundry, but mostly sitting on my butt, figuratively speaking of course, because sitting hurts. Yet with all the pain I’ve endured, the waiting has been most difficult. Don’t get me wrong the first few days were excruciatingly painful and I have no desire to return there. I seriously used cane to get to the bathroom. However as the pain subsides day by day, by the narrowest of margins, the waiting game, and my apparent loss of fitness become more difficult to ignore.

Though I imagine the first time I sit on bike for an easy spin a thought will be born somewhere, somewhere that doubt lives, (mine lives mainly in the occipital lobe with a condo in the hippocampus) thoughts of sleepless nights and agonizing pain will not be far. While the doctor said that I can’t really make it any worse, he neglected to say that the pain would go away completely and never come back. If even just slightly. So I wait. No pain, no gain, doesn’t live here.

I wait, and I live a life without training, one I have lived in quite some time. And while it was nice, at first, to do the things I had put off for so long, (the ones I have been able to do anyhow – sleep in on Saturday, check – begin master plan to become world’s first super-villain, Bah! still unchecked) now I’m bored and want my old life back. I’m itching to train, to sweat, to push my body. I’m itching to race. All of this was made crystal clear Sunday, when I missed my first race due to injury. That pill was harder to swallow than the horse pills I choke down twice a day to calm my geriatric back. Incidentally the bottle is gigantic and takes the dubious honor of my largest prescription pill bottle to date. I think a curious side effect of getting older is that the pill bottles get larger, and time spent off meds get shorter, none allow me to shoot lasers out my eyes however. So I as you is it worth it? The prescription is effective however, but I’m convinced that much of potency has to do with the bottle size.

My recent days are spent with countless minutes of stretching, finagling, and contorting my body into a pretzel. Physical therapy does help alleviate some of the “protrusion” that has a lot of nerve to be touching my… well, nerve. The making of this pretzel usually goes a lot like this: put this over that, move your foot here when you put your pelvis there. Now hold that position… And, next spin. Right foot green! Then I scramble hopelessly trying not to loose balance. It’s basically a one man game of Twister where I always loose.

Combined, the PT and the meds, I think is helping, I feel better every day. Until in the morning when I seem to revert to the speed and agility of a 90 year old man, with arthritis and a rash. It’s depressing. I fall asleep feeling like I can take on anything, like Wolfman reborn howling at the moon, but the reality is I wake up more like Frankenstein, re-animated flesh, rigamortis having set in while I slept. The first time I turn to get out of bed… slowly, as not to pull the atrophied muscles apart too quickly, I realize there’s more time to wait. Any sudden movements and I could relapse with my case of acute SPS (Spontaneous Profanity Syndrome) I spoke of previously. It’s hard to believe that last year at this time I would wake up an hour earlier to get in a 10 mile run, now I dare not fain running lest I break down in tears.

All that said I will be back, of this I am certain. It remains to be seen when that will be. The question of if I could pedal easy on my bike for an hour yesterday was met with “Sorry Charlie, you can walk in the pool.” So I wait, walk like Frankenstein in the morning and howl like Wolfman at night. But I will reclaim my fitness, hopefully with laser vision… that would be cool.

A look at my innards.

I was asked if I was claustrophobic before being shoved in the sarcophagus (I was right the first time) and I answered “No”. I didn’t think I was, that was until I was engulfed by the mechanical beast. I swear the clinking and clanking of the chain pulling the table into the narrow cylinder sounds just like a heading uphill on a roller-coaster. I felt the same amount of angst roll over my body about then and as my heart rate went up a few beats. It calmed down rather quickly once I realized how ridiculous it was, but I was bummed there was no Loop-D-Loop on this ride.

I’ve scrolled through this a number of times and I have to admit, looking at these has the effect of making me truly mortal. I’m glad I got a copy of the pictures, but there is something off-putting about peering into places that aught to remain hidden from the light of day.

They're gonna do this to my spine?

Irregardless, tomorrow morning ultra-strong magnets will attempt to force the very atoms of my body (their nuclei, really) to re-align. While my hydrogen nuclei spin helplessly in their orbits the Radiologist will tune in some snap shots of my innards. If I know me, then I know my hydrogen atoms, and they won’t like being pushed around, much less getting in line (I hate waiting in lines). Physics be damned, I hate lines! Even at the atomic level. So this machine is in for a fight. I’m fully certain they won’t go quietly and I’m guessing it will take at least twice the magnetic power to generate an image. That’s what they expect to happen. What I hope will happen is that the resulting magnetic force will cause all spacetime to come crashing to a halt and reverse direction. Then I can live out the remainder life enjoying all the modern conveniences and better economic times of 1938. Maybe I get into those new fangled “Talkies” everyone’s been raving about? At least that’s what I’m hoping…

I’ve seen MRI’s preformed on TV, that’s about the extent of my knowledge on the actual procedure. As with everything seen on televisions I am sure it is wholly accurate. I imagine I will be dressed down in a cold and breezy hospital gown, laid down on a thin table then, and mechanically shoved into a giant donut. Once inside this sarcophagus donut I will feel nothing other than the deadpan stares of the technician in the other room as they place bets on the length of my lower intestine. During my pre-registration (yes, I registered before I registered – see time travel is possible) I was casually asked if I was married or had any metal objects in my body. I understand why they asked about the metal but have no idea how my martial status will affect the image clarity. Single guys like me must be less anemic on account of our virility. Odder still is that when asked I had to think for about it for a moment. Do I have any metal in my body? Am I married? The answer to both, as best I can say, is no, but I do have a bunch of fillings in my mouth. I’m keeping my fingers crossed that the magnet won’t be so strong as to rip the fillings right out of my teeth. That would make for an uncomfortable test and possibly blur the images, plus I hate the dentist.

If somehow the scan is able to penetrate the dense layers of my bugling muscles and capture an image, I hope they find there is no herniated disc. However based on the pain I have been feeling as of late I doubt that will be the case. While I no longer need a walker to get around town, I can’t sit in one place too long without minor irritation. Plus I’m getting restless and would like to get my life back to “normal.”

I will attempt to get a copy of the MRI for my blog, or least some pictures of me in the MRI machine I can doctor in Photoshop with some lightning and laser effects. But at any rate I hope all goes well and by this time tomorrow I will be living in 1938 driving my Duesenberg to my job on the New York Stock Exchange.

Et tu race flats? Et tu...

In short, one or two (or both) of the following has me in its statuesque death grip. A disc in my lower spine is swollen or bulging sending intolerable pain to my gluteus, or a pulled-strained-sprained muscle or tendon in my back is putting pressure on my spine and in turn a referred pain is felt both in my lower back and keister (that’s a technical term). My doctor said there is no way to be certain without an MRI which is tough to get approved. Apparently the insurance industry’s keister is in worse shape than mine right now, economically speaking. Suffice it to say, in layman’s terms, my butt hurts. And the pain is intense enough that neither swimming, biking, or running would feel too good right now. By that I mean if I take a stride forward I would loose complete control of my tear ducts while suffering acute SPS (Spontaneous Profanity Syndrome), more commonly known as diarrhea mouth.

I know what your thinking, I lifted something too large, pushed on something too big, or got kicked really hard while wrestling a tiger or something. None of that is true (but if you want to believe the tiger story you have my blessing). I initially felt the pain Monday when drying off from my morning shower. I bent down to dry off my leg and my rear didn’t get the message (it was stuck on “remain standing”), or that’s what it felt like. I thought nothing of it until later in the day when I was uncomfortable sitting… then standing… then walking… then I was afraid to go near the floor as I might not get up off it… Mind you I don’t normally have a fear floors so that was abnormal. Fortunately I did get up but only to the bed where I lay prostrate for while. That is until that hurt too and then I spent the better part of the evening spinning under the covers desperately searching for any comfortable position. There wasn’t one, and I knew I was in trouble. By the morning I clearly needed to see the doctor, and set up an appointment. I hate doctor’s appointments, rarely do I receive good news in that tiny room. Just once I’d like the doctor to walk in chart in hand and say “Congratulations, your rich! That’s not butt pain. It’s $20 million in gold bullion lodged in your upper-colon.” But that will never happen.

I’m used to getting hurt however, I can make a list (more on on that later) and I think it’s unfortunate that I never get the opportunity to read my medical records. Have you? If not go ahead and give it a try, the doctor will never let you. To be more accurate the doctor’s staff (read: minions) would never allow it, I have feeling they would take my life before letting me sneak a peek on how they planned to save it, as evidence my by the letter opener protruding through my right knuckle. Okay that’s not true but you could imagine it would if you made a break for that tempting little folder.

My doctor’s staff always seem so incredulous, annoyed that I even came to see the doctor. I can see the look of disgust in their faces when I sign in, clearly I’m faking and just came to add to their paper work, of which I will never-ever be allowed to see. I think it’s perhaps because letting me read my records would only keep me there longer, and their job is to get me out the door ASAP. Preferably with even more unanswered questions than when I arrived with in as few words as possible. Why can’t I just sit and read them while in the waiting room, they’re my records? It even has my name on it, trust me, I can see it written on the little colored folder over the counter. I try not to push my luck and hop the counter, but one of these days I’m gonna say “Nuts”, jump that counter and move some files around, mess up their whole file system. I got issues.

But alas, as it stands now, I have never have gotten to peruse my medical rap sheet (with what is, I’m sure, a litany of notes regarding all the breaks, cuts, sprains, and disease) like I wish I could. I think it would make for some interesting reading. More interesting than Golf Digest, or Good Housekeeping, but not more interesting that Highlights which I try to devour cover to cover before getting called into the “other room.” It’s the investigative journalism, exciting science features, and kids’ poetry that makes it so readable. Okay it’s the small words and bright colors, but honestly pictures of rainbows and snowflakes can be hard hitting news too.

If I think hard (but not too hard to strain anything else) I can come up with a highlight reel of maladies I have suffered over the course of my life and what might have precipitated them.

1. Broken big toe – I tripped and fell down the stairs, breaking my fall with my toe.
2. Broken nose – Possibly twice, once form a collision with my opponents leg in wrestling, then boxing in my front yard. Both dumb.
3. Cracked skull – As a toddler I fell down and clunked my head on a concrete stoop. An early childhood head injury explains a lot doesn’t it?
4. Cut the tip off my thumb – My father gave me a pocket knife as a birthday gift, then sharpened it like a razor, then it closed on my thumb. I was 10. A piece of advice 10 year-old’s don’t need pocket knives.
5. Appendicitis – My body obviously got bored and decided it could do without one. I fought all night to hang on to it, but my body won out and it was removed. The surgeon didn’t let me keep it either. I wonder where it is now? My guess is Florida.
6. Broken collar bone – Another wresting injury. Another piece of advice, don’t try to stop a throw by landing on your head and shoulder.
7. Multiple concussions – Too many to count, but one was so bad the hit broke six of my teeth, and blackened my eye (I mean the white of my eye, not just the socket around the eye). I bet your thinking this continued head trauma explains even more? Me too.
8. 2nd Degree burn along my forearm – Airbags save lives and their speed can burn. I was wearing my seat belt, so all it did was burn.
9. Many, many, many ear infections – Even more advice, be sure to drain the lake water from your kids’ ears.
10. Lacerations – I had my head stitched up over fours separate times as a child. I think I like to stop falls with skull? I’m sure I haven’t learned my lesson.
11. Nail through my hand… and my foot (twice) – Did I mention I was clumsy? My nickname as a child was Bumble. None in my head yet… that know of, if you happen to notice one in the future however let me know.

I’m sure there is more (maybe if I got to see those infernal records), and to be sure, the normal bumps, bruises, and sicknesses one gets through childhood where there too. More importantly, I’m still here and I did recover. I just hate sitting around doing nothing, even if it is the best medicine. At the very least I could have something to read, like medical records, but I’m sure I’ll just end up with another issue of Highlights.