And the Finger...

Way back on March 13, I took a tumble while running (photos of the sidewalk clutter that made me trip are here).  Initially, there was pain everywhere and some minor blood and and some major bruising (I went down while wearing my weight vest).  By the next day though, it was fairly clear that the only real issue, if any, was going to be my right index finger.

I'd been carrying an empty handheld water bottle when I fell, and while the plastic crushed a little, it also bent several of my fingers backward a bit, and the index finger the most severely. 

I thought about going to a doctor, but the fear of ending up heavily bandaged and missing my race made me abstain.

On Bella's advice, I decided to try taping it to immobilize it for a few days to see if that helped. 

Now it's been over two weeks, including several days of immobilization, and it still hurts and is a little swollen, so I decided to call my ortho. 

I completely trust him to treat me well and at the same time to recognize the fitness goals I have and help me find alternate ways to achieve them, even if the alternatives suck (for example, when we were worried I was getting the beginning of a stress fracture in my ankle, now known to have just been a weird bruise or strain from something at boot camp and fully resolved, he wanted me to run bleachers to keep up my fitness without that same straining motion; and bleachers suck; but I admit they suck because they're hard).  Even for just a finger injury, I figured he'd be able to ensure the treatment of it meant minimal disruption for my life. 

Anyway, now that I'm back in town, I finally called my ortho.  And learned that he doesn't do hands, and there is only one hand guy there on staff and he won't be seeing new patients until May.  The receptionist just confirmed what I suspected -- if I want to know for sure if it's broken, I can go to an urgent care place and get x-rays, but all they're likely going to do is put it in a splint to immobilize it and it will take about 6 weeks to heal.  Basically exactly what Bella had already told me to do. 

So more of the same.  It makes typing (and therefore working), considerably more difficult.  But it's still a very minor injury for what could have been a very major fall.  I'm surprised the resounding shockwaves from the fall didn't cause any foundational damage to the surrounding buildings.  Haha.  I went down hard.

Internal Smile

When I flew from El Paso to Dallas to Philly on Monday, I just happened to be seated on the flight to Philly across the aisle from a running friend.  I told him all about the race, including that I'd performed so much better than I'd imagined under any conceivable scenario.  He'd run the local RNR race on Sunday morning, and was able to give me updates on how all our other friends who aren't on FB did (for all the friends who are on FB, I'd already seen their posts and times).  It was fun to swap stories for an hour.  He actually looked through all my pictures with me, and I was overflowing with emotion when I told him about the experiences.

Then we each did some work for a while, then I decided to doze a little.  And it happened. 

Then I had an incredibly unsuccessful time in Philly, didn't resolve the case as I'd hoped I would, and had to come home last night.  Again, I worked on the plane, read part of a book, and then decided to doze a little.  And it happened again.

It is a little grin that's seemingly permanently affixed to my face right now. 

Every time I think about the weekend and the race, I bust out into a huge grin. 

When I just try to relax and sleep or something, I notice I'm smiling.  And I can't help it.

I just feel so great!  Proud and excited about the race results, but even more excited to tell all my running friends all these great survivor stories that I heard. 

I feel like I'm floating a little, and the grin just won't fade!  My lower back is still a bleeding and oozing painful mess.  I joked to my husband that it will be my "Bataan tramp stamp" if it ends up scarring, as I think it may -- too hard to keep it covered with anti-scarring stuff because the waist of any clothes bunch up against it and rub off the bandages, at least as well as I can bandage it myself.  Quads and Achilles are both still a bit sore, but nothing remarkable.

I'm planning a fun 10 days without hubby.  Law school roommate visit, two planned meals with other friends to tell them about the race, some yoga, some packing, then flying home to see my little brothers for Easter, before going to work in Indy for a couple days.  I definitely miss him, but I'm finding fun ways to fill my time, and I'm sure there will be some relaxing solo nights too. 

Wasted Time

I'm feeling frustrated while using the free wifi in the Philadelphia airport. This trip was a complete waste of time, and because I'm here, I haven't seen my husband since Friday morning, and he is now en route to Italy.

I had to come for a settlement conference for work, but we busted -- no deal. Our numbers and the plaintiff's got closer together, but still so far apart it just wasn't going to happen. The midpoint of our numbers was way more than the case is worth for us, and he just doesn't get it. It was unlikely he'd come down to the midpoint, even if I were to have been willing to pay that, and there was just no way he'd come down to what I see as the upper end of our risk. So it was a colossal waste of time.

Oh well, it's what I get paid to do. I just would have felt better if it had gotten resolved. Now unless we can wrap this up with counsel negotiating directly, I'm going to have to come back out here for a trial. Ugh!

My legs are recovering pretty well. My quads scream in pain very briefly any time I stand up or sit down, but it's very brief and it's gone within a couple steps. I can even walk down stairs like a fairly normal person. My left Achilles is probably the most pain on my legs -- it's pretty tight if I flex or point my toe. Might try to ice it tonight when I finally get home to our empty house. My back is a disaster. Still bleeding some, but it seems to be diminishing, but it's a mess. I can't imagine this won't leave a scar. But that's all that's left of the marathon's marks on my body. Not too bad actually!

Holy Moly!

Quick post to say I finished, and not only finished, but finished WAY faster than I expected.  Official division results aren't up yet, but I am thinking I placed.  Crazy.

The weekend was so emotional and informational, the marathon was the least of it.  I met so many Bataan survivors and it meant so much to me to be there.  For these guys, who were ignored and in some ways made to feel ashamed for being part of the largest US surrender ever, told to just put it behind them and move on when they came home, they are now able to tell their stories and see that so many of really are interested and do care.

The guys are all in their 90s now and won't be around forever.  I'm glad I got a chance to hear about it all first-hand. 

The marathon was an ordeal, but I say that lightly.  Obviously, it wasn't really an ordeal like the real death march.  I hadn't lost 25% of my body weight before the race, I wasn't severely malnourished, subsisting on half rations for a month, I didn't have malaria, dyssentery or anything else.  And most importantly, if I wanted to stop to rest, there was no danger someone would shoot me or bayonet me (to save bullets).  These men said that no book or movie has adequately depicted the horror of those days, and they're glad for that.  It boggles my mind, because I've read so much about this period of time, and the books make it sound awful -- hard to imagine it really was that and more.

So the marathon was very hilly, very sandy, and very hot.  There was one really big, miles-long, incline, that I walked primarily.  I'd say about 20 miles were on something other than pavement -- either packed dirt, or loose gravel/sand, or very deep sand.  I'll do a full review later, but honestly, I think the best training would have been running on a beach. 

There weren't many civilian women with packs, so I'm glad I took on the extra challenge.

My back is not.  I chafed like crazy, to the point where I actually ended up a step beyond chafing -- a very large open wound.  Ugh. 

I stopped with medics once around mile 13 to get vaseline in hopes of preventing it from getting worse, and then went to medical after I finished and they were shocked I'd kept going.  It was a large open wound.  Ugh again. 

But again, I don't feel like I can complain in light of what this marathon was honoring.  What a neat way to guarantee I will never forget what happened on Bataan in 1942.