The Oak Tree Farm Zombie: How a nighttime jog led to a fractured collarbone. BUT I SAVED THE HEAD!

Seems appropriate that I create this post as I have been convinced to do a 1/2 marathon in late September in Columbia, MO at the Roots and Blues Festival. Now in my pre-kid days I jogged four different half marathons and even managed to complete the 2003 Chicago Marathon. I was never fast, but had perseverance to not stop until the race was over. Also,the running brought a lot of confidence and pride that aided in guiding me from a college student to an adult with a real teaching job. Unfortunately, as kiddos were born and then the surgeries started up, running became a very, very non-realistic goal. Along with the running a good amount of the confidence and pride became obsolete in my life.


Kyle and I after The 2003 Marathon





So last summer I thought, "what the hell, lets start running again." It would be a "safe" exercise. Unlike Crossfit or yoga, there was nothing being lifted overhead or balancing acts that could lead to injury. It was simple running . . . putting one foot in front of the other. Now, I had aged 9 years and my knees slowed my pace considerably. Also, I started out at mile 1. I really thought I could start with a 3 mile run, but that thought was seriously halted when I went out and nearly collapsed of respiratory failure after a 1/2 mile.

As the weeks went on I did manage to get to three miles. Now I hope you are not picturing me effortlessly gliding down the sidewalk with a smile on face and my long stride moving me forward like one of those crazy Kenyans that run marathons in under 3 hours. You need to picture a short, "fluffy" mom who is struggling to make every stride. She is completely red in the face and quite frankly is running slower than a normal person could walk. Actually if I saw myself running on Todd George Road, I would stop and offer myself a ride just to put the "running me" out of my misery. But I was doing it and some of my old confidence was creeping back (along with two weeks of debilitating leg soreness that kept me from making several treks up and down my stairs). I was back and feeling accomplished.

One day was too busy to run in the daylight, so I thought I would go at night. After fighting with Kyle on whether or not I should take my phone, I took off without any fancy gadgets that new runners like. When I run I don't wear my glasses and when I don't wear my glass my eye doctor claims I am "night blind." I am a bit skeptical of that term, so I never invested in contacts or sports glasses. So I take out on this humid night to trudge 3 miles. I had to deviate from my normal route a bit this night due to a lack of lighting. Though we love in a safe neighborhood, I still imagined an attacker jumping out at me. He/She would have been disappointed to find just me, no gadget mom, but to be safe I took another route.

As I was getting closer to a familiar part of my route something simply tripped me. Not sure if it was the side walk, a branch, or more likely my own feet. I began to fall forward but managed to correct myself. I overcompensated a bit, and the whole left side of my body crashed into the pavement. I skidded along the pavement just enough to skin several parts of my body. Luckily I had managed to use my left arm and protect my head as I did not want another trauma to my new shunt. I did hit my head; just no where near the effin' shunt.

I laid there wondering if this whole body blow out had seriously injured me. Was the shunt hurt?Should I move? Where should I go? My friend's house was a block away and my home was a mile away. After air came back into my stomach, I quickly and embarrassingly got up and immediately started to speed walk home. I, however, heard voices across the street; two people had seen the whole thing and said nothing. No "Are you ok?" or "Can we take you home?" or "Need a beer?"  As I was walking home I kept my hand down, but a few other night walkers were randomly giving me this stare like they had seen a zombie. I would give them a grin and they would ask if I was ok. How did they know I just fell doing the simplest exercise of mankind. After I said yes, they would quickly walk away from me acting like I was going to eat their intestines. After two encounters, I looked down and noticed that both legs were intensely bleeding and my elbow was a causality too. I was so worried about my head I didn't even evaluate the rest of my body. The scared walkers had all cause to be weary because I did look like I had slaughtered someone. BUT...BUT...despite their fear they had manners enough to ask if I was ok, unlike the schmucks who said nothing at the scene of the incident. I made it home, and all I could say to Kyle is "I SAVED MY HEAD!"

The next three days my whole left side hurt especially my head, neck, and shoulder area. A wretched headache plagued me, so I went to the doctor and we just chalked it up to soreness from the fall. On the fourth day the pain became a bit more localized in my collarbone, but I kept on doing life. I did mange to get in with my chiropractor. When I told her the story and begged for a impeccable adjustment, she looked at my collarbone and said she wasn't doing anything until I got it X-rayed. I had always pictured broken collarbones as unbearably painful injuries that took one to the ER immediately, not a nagging pain that didn't prevent me from living life. The chiropractor said people walk around with fractured bones all the time and don't know it.

Needless to say the collar bone had a greenstick fracture in it. When I fell my collarbone bowed out making little bone splinters, like when you try to break a green stem. Since it was only a fracture, all she could do was tape me up and use some laser gadget to reduce the swelling. She taped me everyday because Kyle and I had a 2-day music festival camping trip where we would be sleeping on a tent floor. Between the tape and the Hydrocodone I did just fine on the trip. However, I learned in a moment of distress: ALWAYS PROTECT THE SHUNT! Regardless of what else could happen to the body, the shunt is to be protected at all costs. I retired from running after that, but I am back at it. Please no pity if you see me struggling on Langsford Road. I may look like I am going to die, but that is just my normal running face. But if you see a bloody suburban zombie bite it on the sidewalk in front of your house, at least offer some sort of acknowledgement. Even if it is just a chuckle and a "Smooth move, Exlax!"

Notice the spider taping job to stay comfortable while camping.