It’s the beginning of my second full day of vacation and I’m typing with one thumb and an index finger. It feels as familiar as throwing a pitch left handed and waiting for the mocking “you throw  (type) like a sissy!” from one of the five kids here, a throwback to a kinder gentler time (the 80’s) when insults and bullying were done face to face, the bus stop echoing with shouts of “penis breath”, “gaywad”, and some sort of misused profanity “you’re a piece of fuck!” 

I’m typing this way because I can’t have nice things and my signature vacation move is injury. Yesterday, while on a trail run, hyper aware to not fall, I did just that. Bending my four fingers back far enough to seemingly touch the top of that hands wrist. A super slowmo replay in my brain, me thinking in real time to take weight off that hand and roll, which I did...ramming my shoulder into a rock.

This marks my 4th vacation injury in the past 21 years, a just under 20% success rate. First, I nearly ripped off my right arm in a snowboard wreck, requiring surgery and copious amounts of sitting in bed time. Then I wrecked my bike not once but twice. Once breaking a rib and once leaving a sheet of skin on the Orange Beach highway, hitting my head so hard that when I got up I couldn’t remember which way I’d been riding. So, yes, I’m a pro. 

Yesterday, after the wearing off of the adrenaline and subsequent nausea, my wife and I decided to go to the urgent care next to the petting zoo/corn dog stand in this little slice of Oklahoma. Fingers. Not broken. Wrist. Ulna, broken. As stated on the social media’s. Beer me. 

The run was a good one prior to that. I was reflecting on how I really enjoy trail running. How the weather was perfect. Cool air. A trip to the top of along climb. I thought how I missed the trails. I thought of Huntsville, AL and running Mountain Mist 50k. This was a great start to the week. Until it wasn’t. 

Today, I’m planning on zip lining. I figure I’ve already broken my arm. What’s the worst that can happen? Determined to have some fun. Keep you posted. 

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So now I’m bludgeoning my way onward. When one loses the use of their dominant hand suddenly, one must adjust. Finger for thumb, I’m curious as to how long it will take to adjust. So far. More than a half a day. What’s most interesting is how much I must think about every word, priopreception of the letters and the thumbs now lost, every letter I type on the right side must be focused upon. I have to look for it. It also makes me keenly aware of the every-other letter trade off I have been doing without even thinking about it,my left thumb not daring to reach over to the “p” across the keyboard. It’s such a small thing but incredible to me, how “smart” and adapted we all are. How we take those things for granted. 

I am at once thankful for noticing this. Something I’d never considered but now realized, never to be unrealized. It’s like I just got woke to my personal evolution...ok, that’s a bit much. Now I’ll just watch and see how long it takes for my right index finger to assimilate the things task and will write too much about it at a later date. 

It is a cool reminder though to how much of our physicality we take for granted. Yesterday before my tumble I was thankful for my heath and for my investment therein. There were plenty of people struggling to walk the trails I chose to run. I wonder if any thought, “this shouldn’t be this hard, I should do something about it.”  A spark to initiate some change. Probably not, but I’m hopeful. 

Over time, the goals and physical challenges I have embarked on has started to lose their luster, expectations through years of doing things making them feel commonplace, “It’s no big deal, it’s just running.” Or Ironman or rides at breakneck speeds or swims etc. The luster turned to a lactic acid patina of “the start to the day.” Take it away for less than 24 hours and how the tune will change. 

I have, of late, tried to challenge how I look at the things I am capable of. To try and apply some simple gratitude, to adjust what success looks like, to acknowledge that some things can be more of a big deal without yapping about it all day. 

Just last week I swam perhaps the fastest 1650 (mile) I ever had. I want to say I was faster at 16 years old but I have no archival proof of this so I can say this was the fastest since 1990, something I should be proud of. Instead, I was happy during the next 2 mins of cool down and aimed my goal faster. Doing math and seeing what the next bar was, chastising for not setting the bar high enough this time. O’ Fortuna and her wheel.  

So today the reminder is simple. Give thanks for the things you take for granted. Your highly adept thumbs and their ability. Your health. Where you can improve it.  Push yourself and maybe, stop. Breathe it in and be happy to be alive. 

#hugsandhi5s