Yeargh!

I forgot to bring my ankle brace to the evening workout today. During the warmups, we ran some "mountain climbers" and some strange plank, jump to crouch position, back to plank exercise.

My ankle popped on the first landing on my left foot.

Popped, and lost all strength.

Three months of exercising and rehab lost in one loud POP.

Sigh.

I'm officially a real Caltrain rider! Check me out: I have bought my very first 10 ride ticket today. This is a major commitment, let me tell you. Almost as big as that 6 month contract I signed with Velocity Sports.

Because I'm exiting the train at San Carlos, I'm limited to what trains I can take north. Limited in the sense that I don't want to stand around picking my nose at VS, and I doubt they really want me setting up shop in their office by arriving an hour early every day. Of course, it might be they don't care at all, but that would change my story.

The train at Sunnyvale (Sunnyvale being yet another limiting factor in this whole train thing) that I take is preceded by another train by five minutes. This preceding train is an express train that doesn't stop at Sunnyvale, but rather flies by at an uncomfortable speed on its way to Mountain View.

I hate that train.

That train rolls by, without slowing, at a blurred speed, a rush of air ahead of it that swirls everything in its path into a tangled bird's nest mess. I don't mind that so much as the large objects zooming by me, not much but 10 feet of air between me and it. And that makes me nervous.

Many years ago, maybe twenty or so, I was on a road trip with my family: my mom, my brothers, an aunt, her children, my best friend, her sister and her father. We stopped by some canyon in Arizona, it might have been a shallow part of the Grand Canyon, but I don't think it was. My cousin, who was five, maybe six years older than I, jumped the railing, walked out to the edge of the canyon, and sat down. After what seemed like a long time, he came back, and we all piled into the cars and continued driving. My cousin later talked about the experience with my mom. I overhead his commenting that the song of the canyon was great, and the urge to jump was surprisingly strong.

Oddly enough, I think of this memory when the train comes flying by. I often wonder if the fear of being struck by that train is as strong as my cousin's urge to jump.

Since we've been working out at Velocity Sports, the lactic acid has been building up in our legs, arms, everywhere. The two of of have been hobbling around the house, ow ow owing as we sat down, stood up, moved.

Last Friday night, I couldn't stand the soreness anymore, which is unusual, because I like the soreness as a general rule, and decided to take an epsom salt bath. A nice hot bath.

Kris came in and said, no, no, I shouldn't be taking a hot shower and hot bath, I should be taking an ice bath. Greg Wolff would swim in the ocean after a day of tournament play. Half of the men on Mischief took turns trying to sit in a bathtub full of ice and water at both Regionals and Nationals this year. Watching them sit, or rather, try to sit, in the ice water is worth the laughter it inspires in observers.

So, when I was done with my bath on Friday night, Kris decided to join the ice cube club and sit in an ice water bathtub. I left the bathroom when he was drawing the water. Because the nights have been so cold around here (below 32°F, as plants have been dying of frost), he didn't need to add any ice to the bath, the cold water from the tap was sufficiently cold to chill muscles.

Five minutes after I left the bathroom, I heard cries of "Cold! Cold! Ahhhhhhh! Cold!" After a few minutes of this, I walked into the bathroom. Kris had managed to get all of two feet and one hand into the tub. Apparently, he wasn't able to get farther than those three body parts without putting the family jewels into the water... and that was too painful.

I started teasing him, cajoling him into getting into the water. "Come on! How cold can it be? Just sit down. Sit down already. Just go right in. Come on! Even I could just sit down."

He wouldn't sit down.

"Fine! You sit down!" he finally said, and hopped out of the tub.

In I jumped, and sat down. It was cold. Cold, cold, cold. Did I mention cold? Yeah, it was cold. Certainly not freezing, but cold. It didn't take long for the water to hurt.

I jumped out, and said, "There. You go."

He tried again, and was barely able to sit down. "If my wife can do it, I can do it." I wonder if I can convince him of that for childbirth, too.

My legs hurt for a couple hours after that. Lingering ice pain. For which Kris heckled me right back for.

Sick.

I blame Mirabelle, who sneezed on me after catching a cold from her dad.

Mmmmmmmm, New Zealand colds and flus. They're the best!

Of all the days to forget my camera when heading out, today was not the day.

Normally, I'll take my cell phone, my other cell phone, my camera, my wallet, and my index cards at a minimum. If I can, I'll take my computer and iPod, too, all tucked nicely in my backpack.

Today, however, we were going "shopping," in particular, to purchase the Christmas tree we selected yesterday, so I'd try the minimum (my wallet) and hope I didn't come up with a brilliant idea I had no way of writing down to remember.

Well, rather than having a brilliant idea to write down, I saw THE most hideous chairs on the back of a truck driving just in front of us. I stared at the chairs, mesmerized at just how ugly they were, and commented, "Of all the days to forget my camera."

Without missing a beat, Kris responded, "What? For those chairs?" Yes! "You can just write about them, can't you?"

"Do you really think I could describe them well enough to convey their true ugliness?"

"Those chairs? Mmmmmmmm, no."

So, they were UG-GLEE.

After this conversation, Kris turned the corner into slowed traffic. As we approached, we saw an SUV up on the curb, in the ivy. It was parked rather strangely, and only after passing it and looking back did I realized it was a single vehicle accident where the truck had gone over the curb and plowed straight into the suspension/bracing cables that kept a high voltage power line tower upgright. The dent in the front of the truck was spectacular in its depth and narrowness.

Kris began laughing at the lamenting I started. Why, oh, why had I forgotten my camera today?

At least the Christmas tree we selected was still available. Whoo!