White Rock and Head Staples
Last weekend we ran a half marathon in Dallas. I was pretty happy with the way things turned out. After a lackadaisical training cycle, I was anticipating (and deserved) a "challenging" race. Which is to say, I half expected to leave my breakfast at mile 10 (did not happen). Here are the results:
Time (chip): 1h:59m:22s
Time (gun): 2h:3m:11s (doesn't matter)
Place: 2272/8355
For reference, Julie finished in 1h:27m:40s, was the 94th human to finish, and was the 9th woman across the line.
I thought sneaking in under 2 hours was really neat since this was my first half marathon. I also felt strong throughout and that leaves a fellow feeling good about himself :)
I kept forgetting my camera so I didn't get hardly any pictures, but here's one of our crew on the way to the expo.
(Why yes, I am 7 feet tall.)
Anu and Nagesh let us stay at their place in Dallas and drove us all over town before and after the race. We also got to recover (food and showers!) at Donna and Ralph's place (not pictured, thanks to dumb not-camera-having Charlie). We felt really well taken care of and met lots of fun new people. Good race :)
Head Staples
Races are neat, but you know what's super fun? Head staples!
I'm pretty good at balancing on my knees on the exercise ball, but after I figured out it was possible to stand on the ball I've been trying to dial it up a notch. Here's a video of a guy that can actually stand on the ball.
Now, usually when I try this I'm in the middle of a room with no chairs, or swords, or alligators within arms reach. But on Tuesday I decided to do a bit of grandstanding and threw all those dumb "safety-first" rules to the wind. Fortunately, through the magic of digital cameras that can pretend to be video cameras, we got the whole thing on tape (special thanks to John for getting me the video!).
And here's what happened when I tried (I fall off 28 seconds in):
I didn't even get out of the 4-point stance. Lame. Just lame.
Fun timeline facts (F = 28s):
F+10s: Laura has quietly crossed the room, diagnosed head trauma and gone to get paper towels.
F+15s: Julie comments enthusiastically on the severity of my injury.
F+17s: Laura has already started administering first aid.
So Laura wins the first responder award (thanks Laura :).
Then what? I haven't had any 3 inch head cuts in my adult (?) life so I wasn't quite sure about the next step. After a bit of mirror work, I decided that I probably did need some stitches and - with no surgical volunteers in the room - that meant a road trip. I still think we could have gotten by with some Google and dental floss.
I eventually had Julie take me to an urgent care place across town. Unfortunately, we showed up after closing time (8:00 pm). Plan B was the ER. This was my first ER experience, and I thought it was pretty convenient. Here's how it worked:
1. "Hello, I think I might need some stitches." Then I gave the receptionist a little bit of information (name, age, phone, etc). She sent me to a little room.
2. Inside the little room, I was soon joined by a woman who took my pulse, blood pressure, asked what I did, and asked about my "pain level". This is where I had my first opportunity to proudly explain, "I was trying to stand upright on an exercise ball and I fell down and hit my head." I'm sure she's used to stuff like that.
Now about that pain scale. They say it's 1-10, but I'm pretty sure the 5-10 range is reserved for women in labor and sissys. I answered, "Two or three. *shrug*" I didn't hurt so much, but seriously, who can be having level 7 pain and still be coherent enough to have a conversation about it?
3. The lady sends me back out to the real receptionist. I give this woman my insurance card and every piece of personal information I have.
After cataloging my identity (seriously, it was spooky much information) and having me sign some releases, this receptionist sends me to a bigger room.
4. Now a nice lady staples my head back together (6 staples), shows me how the cool stapler works, and casually encourages me to ingest what I can only assume to be the maximum human threshold of ibuprofen and acetaminophen.
I'm pretty sure everyone at the hospital was totally on-board with how important it is to stand on top of round wobbly stuff.
Here it is, staple head:
Every time I look at that I think I'm balder.
I'm scheduled to go back to the ER for removal on Christmas day, but I may try to sneak in a little earlier. I can't say I'm looking forward to it. Those things clamp into a closed rectangle, the removal process cant be fun.
On the topic of "Google and dental floss", the ER doc told me that people used to tie their hair together in this situation. I thought that sounded pretty clever.
Time (chip): 1h:59m:22s
Time (gun): 2h:3m:11s (doesn't matter)
Place: 2272/8355
For reference, Julie finished in 1h:27m:40s, was the 94th human to finish, and was the 9th woman across the line.
I thought sneaking in under 2 hours was really neat since this was my first half marathon. I also felt strong throughout and that leaves a fellow feeling good about himself :)
I kept forgetting my camera so I didn't get hardly any pictures, but here's one of our crew on the way to the expo.
(Why yes, I am 7 feet tall.)
Anu and Nagesh let us stay at their place in Dallas and drove us all over town before and after the race. We also got to recover (food and showers!) at Donna and Ralph's place (not pictured, thanks to dumb not-camera-having Charlie). We felt really well taken care of and met lots of fun new people. Good race :)
Head Staples
Races are neat, but you know what's super fun? Head staples!
I'm pretty good at balancing on my knees on the exercise ball, but after I figured out it was possible to stand on the ball I've been trying to dial it up a notch. Here's a video of a guy that can actually stand on the ball.
Now, usually when I try this I'm in the middle of a room with no chairs, or swords, or alligators within arms reach. But on Tuesday I decided to do a bit of grandstanding and threw all those dumb "safety-first" rules to the wind. Fortunately, through the magic of digital cameras that can pretend to be video cameras, we got the whole thing on tape (special thanks to John for getting me the video!).
And here's what happened when I tried (I fall off 28 seconds in):
I didn't even get out of the 4-point stance. Lame. Just lame.
Fun timeline facts (F = 28s):
F+10s: Laura has quietly crossed the room, diagnosed head trauma and gone to get paper towels.
F+15s: Julie comments enthusiastically on the severity of my injury.
F+17s: Laura has already started administering first aid.
So Laura wins the first responder award (thanks Laura :).
Then what? I haven't had any 3 inch head cuts in my adult (?) life so I wasn't quite sure about the next step. After a bit of mirror work, I decided that I probably did need some stitches and - with no surgical volunteers in the room - that meant a road trip. I still think we could have gotten by with some Google and dental floss.
I eventually had Julie take me to an urgent care place across town. Unfortunately, we showed up after closing time (8:00 pm). Plan B was the ER. This was my first ER experience, and I thought it was pretty convenient. Here's how it worked:
1. "Hello, I think I might need some stitches." Then I gave the receptionist a little bit of information (name, age, phone, etc). She sent me to a little room.
2. Inside the little room, I was soon joined by a woman who took my pulse, blood pressure, asked what I did, and asked about my "pain level". This is where I had my first opportunity to proudly explain, "I was trying to stand upright on an exercise ball and I fell down and hit my head." I'm sure she's used to stuff like that.
Now about that pain scale. They say it's 1-10, but I'm pretty sure the 5-10 range is reserved for women in labor and sissys. I answered, "Two or three. *shrug*" I didn't hurt so much, but seriously, who can be having level 7 pain and still be coherent enough to have a conversation about it?
3. The lady sends me back out to the real receptionist. I give this woman my insurance card and every piece of personal information I have.
After cataloging my identity (seriously, it was spooky much information) and having me sign some releases, this receptionist sends me to a bigger room.
4. Now a nice lady staples my head back together (6 staples), shows me how the cool stapler works, and casually encourages me to ingest what I can only assume to be the maximum human threshold of ibuprofen and acetaminophen.
I'm pretty sure everyone at the hospital was totally on-board with how important it is to stand on top of round wobbly stuff.
Here it is, staple head:
Every time I look at that I think I'm balder.
I'm scheduled to go back to the ER for removal on Christmas day, but I may try to sneak in a little earlier. I can't say I'm looking forward to it. Those things clamp into a closed rectangle, the removal process cant be fun.
On the topic of "Google and dental floss", the ER doc told me that people used to tie their hair together in this situation. I thought that sounded pretty clever.
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