Well, it's the time of year when I usually go off on my annual anti-Christmas rant. Don't worry. Nothing has changed. I wouldn't want to give you the impression that I have sought help for my holiday hatred and anxiety that wakes me up in the middle of the night with my heart beating out of my chest and the inability to catch my breath. I wish I could say I was kidding. I need some sort of support group or medication or both. I'm one car with antlers and a Rudolph nose away from a full blown psychotic break. Speaking of cars dressed up like Rudolph, one almost clipped me on Clinton Rd. on Sunday when I was on the bike. Fitting, right? It could be payback from when I ran over Santa a couple of years ago.


Ringwood through a schweaty lens

I decided to escape to Skyline over the weekend for some quality alone time with my bike. I had a couple of goals: Release some of my Christmas crazy lady and do a quality post-injection wrist shake-down. Check and check. Unfortunately, the reduced crazy part didn't last that long, but the wrist fared well. If I can ride there with only a few whimpers, I'll be okay. I just hope there is ample time before I need the next round of injections.

Tonight instead of making my usual peppermint brownies for my work potluck, I'm making a batch of my "Power Balls". No I'm not doing it as a sick joke or punishment. I was actually asked to make them by a couple of people who were brave enough to try them. They are made to be in a jersey pocket or shoved into a sports bra during a ride. I never really thought I would be making them for co-workers. I could have made them into bars to make them more party appropriate, but then I won't be able to giggle when people talk about my tasty balls.

They look down right offensive and like some sort of fecal matter. They're good. Really.

My doctor was right (you'd think he's been wrist specialist for 20 years or something). The MRI confirmed that I have a tear in the triangular fibrocartilage and joint damage exactly where he said it was. I got a lecture and was told to take up swimming. He told me there is a 95% chance I will need surgery in the future. It could be 6 months. It could be years. Although, with my activity level, choice of activities and arthritis, he's thinking my date is more realistic. I'm shooting for late September/early October 2013. It's good to have a goal. I'm hoping the two cortisone injections I got today take the edge off and buy me some time. I've done pretty well with cortisone injections in other joints, so I'm hoping my wrist will be no different.

Anything that involves twisting and pronation and I'm screwed. I 'm using my left arm more than ever and I know it's gotten a hell of a lot stronger. Still working on that right-sided dismount off the bike. I am also caving and buying a left-handed can opener. I finally understand the pain that has been plaguing lefties for years.



And now for some non-injury, non-bike related news. We are thinking about about adding a new family member. My co-worker has been asking me if I want to come "look" at her parents' rottie. He's "young and bored" as her mother is ill and can't really do much with him and they spend a lot of their time in Florida. Her sister takes minimal care of him while they are gone. I've been putting meeting him off for a year (mainly because I'm still heartbroken over Ike) and her dad asks her if I've reconsidered every day. Let's just say she's sly always finds a way to sneak in cute stories about him and texts me photos. Today, I finally caved and told her we will be there this weekend. We could go and meet him and it may not work. We may not get along. Of course, it is always a possibility that we may have 120lbs. + of dog this weekend.

If it does happen, I have a feeling Mike will feel more at ease leaving me alone when he goes away for a week or two.  

No Bueno

Consider this a PSA for those of you wanting to embark on a Whole30 or any dietary change. This is a cautionary tale. Let's review shall we?

Besides a tasting on Thanksgiving, I have really been sticking to the Whole9 way: No grains, no dairy, no legumes, no sugar and basically, no processed crap.

Well, I've always been a big Chipotle or Moe's fan. For about a month now that has been my one craving that I could not shake. So Saturday, after a ride we got home, cleaned up, did some things around the house and I still was perseverating about a burrito. So we went to Taco Hombre (a local Chipotle/Moe's-like place). I had a burrito with shredded beef and absolutely everything I haven't had in a while: tortilla, cheese, beans, rice. I even drank a coke with it. Ummm...that's pretty much everything I haven't been eating wrapped in a nice little tasty package washed down with a side of liquefied sugar. Burrito bomb.

I felt not so great about 10 minutes after. Fast forward about an hour later and my belly was talking and I'd swear an alien was going to bust out of my guts. I was in pain. PAIN. I won't go into the gory details but my night was spent rotating form the couch to the bathroom. Awful. Just awful.

I was supposed to meet the girls for a ride on Sunday. With a pocket full of baby wipes, I dragged myself over to the park and spun up to meet them. Let's just say I had 3 visits to the woods before they arrived. During the ride, I didn't know if I was going to barf or crap myself. It was touch and go for the first hour then eventually, I started to feel a little better. I sucked down 5 bottles in less than 3 hours. It kinda felt like riding off a wicked hangover.

Just say "No".

I learned my lesson. Baby steps. I guess you could say it was aversion therapy.