No, Not in the Ribs!

What is the worst possible injury for a runner? I maintain that it is bruised ribs because that’s the one that I’m currently dealing with and my present reality trumps your facts and evidence to the contrary.

Two weeks ago I took an elbow to the ribs playing indoor soccer and launched myself across the pitch tout de suite, writhing in pain for the ref to see because that’s the way you play soccer. Despite my theatrics no foul was awarded so I guess I’m not as good at soccer as I thought. Ever since that unjust incident it has been painful to run for any length of time. Each step feels like someone is poking me in the ribs from the inside, and taking a deep breath is completely out of the question. You can see how that would make running difficult, more so than it normally is. I’ve checked my symptoms on WebMD and it says that I probably have radiation poisoning so obviously it wasn’t just an elbow to the ribs, it was a NUCLEAR ELBOW to the ribs! That really should be an automatic red card, in my humble opinion.

The worst thing about all of this is that rib injuries seem to take forever to heal. This is the third time I’ve injured my ribs playing soccer and in both of the previous instances it took upwards of six weeks before I could run without pain. I guess that’s just the way it goes. I get older. I get injured. I heal slower and complain about it here.

Also, I recognize that this is the second post in a row wherein I’ve used a French term and I do feel bad about that but I also think it brings a little class and culture to the blog, a little je ne sais quoi if you will.

Plus ça Change

The days gave way to weeks, weeks drew out into months, the months became years but even the years were not as long as this analogy. It’s been a while since my last post. It will be two years on October 2nd and that post was pointing you to a new parenting blog collaboration that I abandoned faster than a carefully constructed race plan.

I don’t expect that anyone still checks this space for updates and I’m guessing that my RSS readership died with Google Reader. I’m OK with that. I’m not really expecting that anyone will read this, let alone comment. I’m actually not really sure why I’m writing this at all except that I felt drawn back to this space. I don’t know if this is a lone post out of the blue or if it is the beginning of me writing again, though I suspect it’s closer to the former than the latter. I’ve given up on this blog and returned to it more often than an addict that can’t escape the allure of the high and yet can’t quite achieve the discipline to quit.

Not much has changed since my last post; I’m still running, I’m still just as slow as you remember. I’m still happily married to Candis, and I still have two kids that have managed to grow up more than it feels like they should have in the past two years. I’m still on the good side of 40 but the countdown has switched to months, not years. I even still get offered free shoes every now and then.

Plus c'est la même chose.