Taking the Road Less Traveled; or, Hotel California, Part Deux

El tiempo hoy en Bahía de Guantánamo, Cuba: 85º y está un poquito nublado.

One of my friends calls this place Hotel California (as in, "you can check out any time you like, but you can never leave").

And you know the opening lyrics. Here's my version, which really go well with a little bit of recent excitement in my life:

On a dark desert highway
Cool wind in my hair
Warm smell of [banana rat poo]
Rising up in the air
Up ahead in the distance
I saw a shimmering light (the stars!)
My head grew heavy and my sight grew dim. . .
And then I busted by butt.

About half the time I run, I run alone. As a female, it took me a while to feel completely safe running at night alone here, because we ladies have a fear ingrained against taking stupid risks. And running alone at night is a stupid risk I rarely took until I moved here. I still use common sense---reflective gear, well traveled routes, and honestly, we are in such an isolated place where everyone here has had a background check, I feel comfortable as a female running alone at night (and unlike anywhere else I've lived, I don't freak out a little when a man I don't know is running towards me in the dark). This past week, I was so incredibly bored with the same route I've run for 15 months or so, I took a turn into a neighborhood I usually don't run in. It was, literally, the road less traveled. This is supposed to be a good thing, right?

There is a long stretch in this neighborhood that is very dark---no street lights---and although the moon is super bright here, as are the stars (no light pollution), it was really too dark for me to be running this particular stretch at night without a light.

But I did anyway.

I did think, "Wouldn't it be awful if a banana rat ran in front of me" (it has happened---more than once---and I almost tripped on it). What I didn't think was, "Wouldn't it be awful if a car came down the road, and I ran to the shoulder, but there really wasn't a shoulder."

There was no shoulder.

There was a 2 foot drop off.

Skinned, bruised, and bloody, I limped the short distance (1 mile or so) home, and my oldest was in awe over the blood covering my leg and my blood-soaked sock from my skinned up knee. Then I look down at my other leg and realized that I had a huge bulge on the side of my ankle. And I realized what I thought was dirt was just chunks of dead flesh peeling off my knee.

Yuck.

The ER trip was fine---I've had to go before, and as always, the staff is very efficient and friendly. They got me cleaned up and told me I couldn't get stitches (not enough skin) and the Xrays showed no break, just a sprain. They sent me home with crutches and medicine and directions on how to take care of my injuries, and followed up with a phone call the next day to see how I am doing.

Back up a few days before "the incident." I got a Fit Bit. No, I'm not going to be one of those people who gives you a blow by blow of how many steps or miles or calories or sets of stairs I go through in a day. I will just say this---if you think librarians live sedentary lives, you need to hang out with one for a day. Especially one who doesn't have an assistant (and has to split time between two campuses---a ridiculous expectation, but it is what it is). I love when people say, "Oh! You are a librarian! You must love your job! You get to sit and read all day!" and I want to ask, "Um, when was the last time you were actually in a library?" I don't know any librarians who get to actually read on the job, even those librarians with only one library to maintain and an assistant or two. I hit my 10K step goal before I get home every day. Living in a 2 storey house (yes, that's how you spell "storey"), I go up and down the steps a minimum of 20 times a day (I have proof now!). I am hoping it's building my legs and glutes and not blowing out my knees.

Having a Fit Bit just proves what I've suspected all alone---I am fidgety and hate to stay still. I remember when a study came out a few years back that said fidgety people are much, much, much more apt to be lean and less to be obese than people who don't fidget. So there! I don't feel bad about my inability to stay still; I am wired to burn calories all day long, so please don't make me stop.

And now. . . I am in pain. But the worst part? I have to be still. I can't run up and down the stairs 20 times in a day. I missed the Dr. Seuss Fun Run. I can't move around the house cooking, doing a load of laundry, picking up the den, and catching up on email all at the same time, like I do every evening when I come home (and if it's M-W-F, watering the yard, too). I am not a  television viewer. I watch 2-3 shows a year, and having to stay in bed, foot elevated, looking at t.v. is killing me. THIS IS BORING. I can't concentrate enough to read (it's the pain). I tried getting out this weekend for a while, ran a few errands and went to the Mardi Gras parade, and then spent a fun evening with our fun neighbors (even if one of them made fun of my new, singular "cankle").

But now, I am sort of  hurting and know tomorrow will be even worse (I seem to hurt more every morning instead of less). And I am really wishing I were the sitting and watching type, not the fidgeting and moving around type. I have no idea how I'm going to do my job that has me doing 10K+ steps a day when I can barely do ten. I won't be able to run or exercise for weeks, and I'm stuck in a stupid boot (and stupid crutches---I need a remedial crash course on using them, because I am evidently too stupid to use stupid crutches).

Did I mention I'm cranky??

(I am cranky).

So taking the road less traveled sometimes isn't the best plan. From now on I'm use my instincts more, take stupid risks less. I still can't believe I literally plunged into the dark unknown.

My pity party is coming to a close, and now I'm thinking of the first place I'll run and the first day I'll be back to well over 10K steps once I have healed my ankle and my knee. I can't believe I'm saying this, but I really, REALLY miss running, and that same old stretch of Sherman doesn't seem quite so boring now that I can't get out there and run on it.