This morning was a test of mettle. The bandage needed to come off and had started to leak blood. The clear covering, like tacky cellophane, had filled like a blister. Last month's experience told me we should do this sitting down.
Even starting to describe the process makes me hyperventilate. Picking at the edges of a fresh incision. A scar that has barely begun to heal. Trying to find purchase to peel the thin layer off the tender skin. Below, gauze the color of gore.
The cellophane layer came off easier than it had the last time. Practice makes perfect. But this time, the gauze stayed on the skin, stayed on the incision. The thought of pinching a corner of the bandaging and peeling it off the wound made my stomach turn.
My feelings of nausea were in part because of the sight of blood, which dripped from the covering, but more from knowing how my wife was feeling. The pain. The discomfort. The queasiness. All from my efforts to get this stuff off her sensitive skin and then clean it with hydrogen peroxide so she could return to work today without fear of leaking blood through her uniform.
These are the words of a worried husband, his wife prone to giving 100 percent, even when her body isn't ready for it. This day can't end soon enough.
Wherein we announce a potential goal for the next race
BrianFlash suggests a way to slowly recover my training prowess: "Perfect solution -- get out there and run shoeless! After I had been running lots of mile[s] in minimalist shoes, I went out shoeless and had to stop at 3. That's all the untrained soles could take."
Answer: One of my goals this year was to run a race barefoot. Considering this may be my only other race this year, I've toyed with the idea of doing it barefoot. However, my soles aren't that untrained, as I still walk around without shoes, often over my rocky driveway.
Happy Hour is nearly upon us, teammates! Have a finely brewed weekend. Run well and drink well. Cheers!