Death Star

I used to be a runner. Past tense. Ran track. Ran cross country. Won some big races and lost some big races. Running aired more on the side of love for me in the 'love/hate' relationship most people find with it. Even before the age of the iPod, I loved escaping out on a trail and getting lost in my head. Then the iPod showed up and married my love of three things: running, being outside and music. It was a polygamous relationship.

This aspect of my life came to a very abrupt stop in July of 2007. At the time I was training for a mini triathlon and was finding great joy in returning from a hard run in the Tennessee heat. There is such great satisfaction in being exhausted with purpose.



Would you like to try cheese on that?

 After one such run, I hurried from training to my job at the time: skating carhop at Sonic. Here's some interesting economics: made more money as a carhop at Sonic than as a bedside nurse in an ICU. If only people could tip their nurses...

This evening at work started no differently than any other. I went to work, laced up my skates, and put my smile on. About an hour into my shift, an incident happened that would prove to rob me of much joy for years to come. A large truck, and I mean a LARGE truck-think a Ford F-950, something with a a hemi for its hemi, a machine capable of derailing a train kind of large-pulled into a stall and just forgot to come to a complete stop. And hit me.




Death Star on wheels

Nope. This is a Death Star on wheels:

If you ever find yourself in this wager: "who do you think would win in a fight: a skating carhop or the Death Star on wheels?" Go with your instincts and put your money on the Death Star.



An unlikely scenario





This sucked. There's really no eloquent way to express it. It just sucked. That encounter tore my knee up something awful. My race that I had trained so hard for was out of the question. Spent months in a knee brace that claimed half the territory of my right leg and became a connoisseur of physical therapy exercises. Props to physical therapists every where: your profession is amazing. Thank you.

There are life lessons I learned from this comical injury. Another blog, another day. Probably tomorrow.

Blessings,

KB

P.S. I'm admitting that I've been listening to Men Without Hats today. S-A-F-E-T-Y....