Alright team, so it begins…I am lying on my couch, knee elevated, ice on top with a few stitches thrown in for fun...doctor who wielded the Lidocaine and x-rays said "use your best judgment about running"…I replied "my best judgment went out the window the moment I agreed to join up with a group of nutty runners to grunt our way through an absurd number of miles." Blood, sweat, and tears occurred yesterday morning during a brief incident involving a training run, a trip-and-fall, and pulling a small rock out of my knee. One side benefit: My faith in humanity was restored by all the kind souls along the Mount Vernon Trail who stopped to assist. I won't soon forget the well-prepared man with clean water he poured over my wound (without saying "ewww"). The thoughtful ladies who offered to walk with me for a bit along my 3 mile journey back home(uphill, with blood dripping down into my sock, HARDCORE-style). The non-English speaker who used hand signals to let me know he was willing to help. Or he was just exclaiming about how gnarly I looked. Whoever you are, my MVT angels…thank you for being aware of the world around you and of the needs of your fellow man (notably, me). Beer Runners…I may be unable to drink in order to save my liver the double assault of 800mg Ibuprofen and alcohol, but I am able to cheer. Perhaps, with the help of Divine Providence and a compression wrap, I may be able to hobble my way through a few miles with all of you. Run on.
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