Street Cred

Yesterday's running-related (or, rather, falling-related) "bleeding owie" has earned me much respect from the girls. In the eyes of a child, there is nothing in life more noteworthy than a wound that makes you bleed. It prompted two questions: "Did you get a bandaid?" (Answer: no), and "Did you feel like you wanted to cry?" (Answer: no). And with that, we moved on to fighting about who got to let the dog out of his crate (the amount of fighting this dog has prompted is astounding) or something similarly scintillating. As you can tell, the kids are really interested in every single aspect of my marathon training. They're supportive like that. (I kid.) Truly, they are more impressed that I fell than they are when I finish a half-marathon. You have to sort of love that.

Unfortunately, I tweaked my wrist in yesterday's fall. It's inconvenient since it's my right hand, and I tend to need that one. Plus, I spend all day typing and writing. But really, I am mostly excited it's not an injury that will keep me from running.

Worth noting: It's hard to activate one of those instant ice packs with your non-dominant hand. And it's also hard to activate it with a swollen dominant hand. Someone should have considered that in their engineering of those items. It's also sort of hard to ice your wrist and work at the same time. Which I probably should have realized before I spent five minutes activitating the ice pack.