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Just over a week post-Ironman, with everything progressing smoothly around the house in preparation for the arrival of our daughter, I decided to go for an evening run to a nearby golf course turned nature preserve…

The run began smoothly enough. My legs still didn’t have their pre-IM spring, but otherwise I was able to cruise along at a decent pace as I left the neighborhood and ventured west to my evening playground. Arriving at the park, I was greeted by a crowd of young ladies playing tennis on the courts in front of the former clubhouse, which now appears to be condemned. Judging by the number of players and the additional spectators around, this was probably a local high school tennis team at practice. As I passed, I noted that the tennis courts were the only area still maintained on the grounds (with the exception of a community garden hidden behind the clubhouse). The parking lot was returning to nature, with grass growing through the pavement. My run wandered along the remnants of cart paths, some sections still paved and others covered with gravel. I could make out the former course features mainly by the locations of the trees. The whole area had a post-apocalyptic feel to it, but did provide ample hills and winding paths to run.

Satisfied that I had explored the area thoroughly, I started to contemplate my way home. Still feeling energetic, I opted to turn north and cross the Ronald Reagan Highway before sneaking into the neighborhood through the pedestrian only “back entrance.” Running toward the Reagan involves running against steady traffic on a road with no shoulder…not the ideal running environment. Regardless, I progressed north and was eyeing the Reagan overpass, watching the traffic patterns and considering my crossing strategy. And then I was falling…Slam! Crack! Roll!

Now I’m sitting on the ground, adrenaline in control, feeling the burn of a scraped knee, hip and elbow. Embarrassed about falling with an audience, my first instinct is to get out of there. As I start to push myself up, I can’t put weight on my right arm and quickly go back down before rolling up to my feet using my left arm. It is now that I notice something is probably wrong with the right arm and I take time to assess the situation. I look back at the black plastic riser that led to my predicament and can’t believe I didn’t see it coming. Then my thoughts move to my arm. My first instinct is that it’s broken. I should probably call Susan and get a ride home. Luckily I’m just outside the parking lot for a large community rec center.

As I walk around the lot, I can move my arm, so begin to get hopeful that it’s something more minor. Adrenaline is still masking most of the pain, so I calmly walk into the lobby and to the front desk to find a phone. I’m directed to an old phone mounted to the wall outside the lobby and fail at trying to reach Susan. It won’t make calls outside the 513 area code. I return to the lobby to report this to the lady at the check-in counter and am told there’s nothing she can do for me (despite her personal cell phone sitting right on the desk in front of us). A rec center patron notices my distress so offers to let me use his phone where I get a hold of Susan for a pick-up. Light headedness sets in as I find a bench to wait. I pass the time by trying to control my breathing and not look so pathetic to the passers-by.

Susan arrives and we head back home, still unsure what to do from here. We ice things down and she calls her pediatrician sister and we wait an hour. After the icing, I am stiff but things are still moving and I can feel around gingerly without spikes of pain. However there is strange numbness in my forearm and I’m having trouble lifting my arm above my head, so it’s off to the emergency room we go.

As Susan and I walk in the door, we are approached by a man with a wheelchair for Susan offering to take us to labor and delivery…if only! We cleared up the confusion, checked in and were led to an exam room. I got a quick consult with the doc then was off to x-rays. Susan passed the time listening to the other patients in our corral. The x-rays confirmed a break of the elbow…the olecranon to be exact.

I was told I’d probably need surgery, was splinted and bandaged and given a name of an orthopedist to see ASAP.

Wednesday morning I was able to see a surgeon and once he saw how near the arrival of the baby was, he suggested surgery on the morrow so I’d be as far along the recovery cycle as possible come baby’s arrival.

Thursday morning, I went in, went under, and woke up with a screw through the arm.

Since I opted for the nerve block, I also had a numb, lifeless arm for the first 18 hours.

Now, I wait a week before my post-surgery check-up where I will hopefully be moved to a flexible brace for the next couple months while bones heal. In some ways this is good since it forces me to take a true off season from training and to simplify as much as possible in prep for the baby’s arrival. On the other hand, it’s a broken bone, and those suck at the best of times (which this is not).  Hopefully our next post involves a more positive hospital experience.