Broken

I guess I knew that being hurt was no fun. When others have explained their injuries, I really did think I understood that yeah, it hurts and yeah, there are things you would like to do and you can't.
But now that I am hurt and I can't do what I want to do, I REALLY understand. I mean for a couple of weeks, I couldn't wear a t-shirt or put on deodorant (ok, I wasn't gross, but it is a little humbling, no?).
So, I am fortunate in that I hadn't signed up for any races that I could not run. I am (very) fortunate that I can do other things (hike and spin on a trainer in the basement). So whining is not what this is about.
I can promise that my next race (Mt Cheaha 50k) is going to be very special after a four month break. I can promise to thank my lucky stars every time I get a chance to run after I am mended. I am positive I will listen more closely to my running comrades when they are out for injury.
...and I might even be a little more focused, more careful, more dialed in next time I get on that bike...
After all, there was no car, there was no little black cat, there was no tree in the road...just me on the bike.
The doctor says the x-rays look good. Wounds are healing. Bones are knitting. Man, I feel pretty darn good. The doc says three weeks...three more weeks and I can run. I sure am looking forward to it.