Monday is Wear Your Medal (And Wristband) To Work Day
One day after OCRWC I was not even sore.
Or maybe, I was. I don’t know. It was hard to tell, because belly button down, I looked (and felt) like I was beaten with a baseball bat.
I am no stranger to scrapes and bruises, but after this particular race, all the damage was so beautifully concentrated on my legs, that I did what any girl would do – dressed up and asked someone to take pictures (thanks, Tim!).
Have you ever been asked what the hell is wrong with your legs (or arms, or face, or whatever else you managed to scrape up) at work? Has anyone ever suspected that you are in an abusive relationship because you regularly show up black and blue?
I say that the best answer to those questions is declaring a Monday Wear Your Medal To Work Day.
So, let me kick off Medal Monday by sharing my latest collection of scrapes and bruises.
While most of my are of garden variety, a few are true gems. There is…
… a deep gash below my knee from when I tripped on a root, and actually went flying, only to land hard, face down. Ahhh. A classic trail running injury.
I screamed as I fell, then spent a minute or so, just lying there and feeling incredibly sorry for myself. Then I pulled a Scarlett O’Hara (one of my favorite race tactics), saying out loud: “I will feel sorry for myself at the finish line”, and got up. Another pair of my favorite racing capris was destroyed, but the cut, while deep, had clean lines and did not bleed. So I hobbled on.
… a bruise on my lower back from the Tyrolean traverse.
Traversing the rope head first, I lowered my legs upon reaching the platform in the middle. My body swung back, and I slammed my lower back into the support structure. Hard.
The pain was so sharp and so sudden, it took my breath away. This was also the moment for my little breakdown (it seems almost every race has one), as I got off the rope, crouched down on the platform and cried. This was more psychological fear (hitting the base of your spine hard is never good, so it’s more the terrified feeling of “holy shit, I just hit the base of my spine, and it hurts, and OMG, what if I can’t walk now, and OMG, this could have been so much worse) than actual pain – hell, the cut on my knee hurt much worse.
I may had to use the Scarlet O’Hara approach here once again. Stupid traverse.
… a constellation of small bruises, covering my inner thighs – it’s gorgeous, really – from the Weaver.
The Weaver was slow, awkward, painful and frustrating, as I was trying to a) figure out some sort of systematic approach to the over-under traversing, and b) not to fall off. If there is more of a mindfuck out there when it comes to obstacles, I haven’t seen it. Wet wood rubbed the skin of my upper arms raw, the sharp edges of each plank slammed into my legs. Graceful was I not.
Of course, now I have some awesome photographic mementos (more photos coming soon). The bruises are healing already, and the gash will turn into a scar in a few months.
(We) Chicks dig scars, right?
YOUR TURN: Do you have some race bling to share? Please brag!
Liked this post? Check out my essay “Go, Get Your Medal”, where I discuss Spartan medal’s pie design, and share some of my favorite medals.