Vibrating stop signs can be cool!

Normally I wouldn't blog about such a mundane experience as a 3 1/2 mile run, but yesterday was my first run outside since the accident and with my vision even a casual jog up the street becomes...trippy.
You know how your body bounces a little with each step as you run? (Duh.) What we never stop to think about is how all the other objects stay rooted where they are. Why? Because mailboxes and front porches don't move in real life.
Not for me. Within a few yards it became clear what this run would be like: My vision bouncing like anyone else's, and everything else around me bouncing too. I felt like I was on acid, watching parked cars and driveways jarring themselves loose from stagnation, sometimes bouncing into double images, sometimes staying together. The world was a Mexican jumping bean.
Before long I figured out what I needed to do. I kept reminding myself,
"Jenn, just remember that these things are not moving in real life. Just keep running. As for your inability to gauge if the sidewalk is sloping up or down, just try not to biff it. And if you do, thank goodness your lobster made you carry your driver's license and her phone number on a post-it because she doesn't let you to leave the house without them anymore."
Clearly, it was more an exercise of the mind than of the legs. Which is why I'm taking a rest day today.

Step One: Get back on.

Today was my first workout since the accident. I went down to our building's fitness center and pedaled for an hour on a recumbent bike (sitting=safer).

TANGENT: I wear an eye patch (temporarily) to correct the double vision and rest the left eye in hopes of healing the broken nerves there. My sweet loving supportive lobster calls me a pirate and sticks random "AAARRR!!s" into conversations at least 18 times a day. Point is, a recumbent bike is a seated position and therefore more stable than on my feet. I went for a walk around the block yesterday, and in an experiment of curiosity removed the eye patch to test balance. I stumbled off the sidewalk and I'm pretty sure I trampled on my neighbor's flowerbed.

I didn't try any hills or any speed intervals today. My RPMs and my pace were off. I didn't feel as strong.

I was slow. But I'm comin' back.

Venting.

The doctor yesterday said I should take my progress "one week at a time".
It's been a week since the accident and I'm officially ready to vent.
I'm depressed. My eyes don't work together, so blurry-and-double vision means mild throw-up feelings unless I'm napping or I shut one eye (doesn't matter which eye). It's sunny and 75 degrees but I can't go for a run. My pool ID is ready to be picked up but I can't go for a swim. My helmet is cracked so I can't go for a ride. Words jump around the page when I read, even straight hallways swerve, and my only reprieve is my afternoon 3-hour nap. I can't even sip a beer on my balcony to celebrate summer vacation.

"It could be worse", they say.
"It'll get better."
"This is normal."

Yeah, I get that. I can still be pissed about it for a day, right?

P.S. The traumatic brain injury specialist guy rated my cognitive ability in the "high average to superior" range. I'm going to paraphrase it to mean I'm the smartest person he's ever met.

Recovery--the Bright Side.

I haven't written in forever, and when I do write it's not very often about training or races. I was going to change all that with a sneak peek into next week's race (the first of the season, mind you), when "the accident" happened. Now there is no race next week, nor is there training planned until the brain injury specialist tells me I'm safe to go out by myself. So here I sit, a weird combination of double vision and cabin fever, trying to look on the bright side:

-The Bigfoot Triathlon was a half-mile swim in Lake Geneva: Current temp, 63 degrees. That's cold enough to numb your girl bits, I'll tell you what.
-Like my athlete blogmate Krista, I'm a late "Lost" bloomer. Look who has time to catch up on the first two seasons now! Take that, mysteriously elusive plotline!
-All school year I lamented at my inability to take 3-hour mid-afternoon naps. No more.
-My lobster waits on me hand and foot, and she feels good about doing it. "Note to Recovery: Take your Time."
-Everyone I hang up the phone with ends with an "I love you". If you need a self-esteem boost, go for the sudden head injury/hospital stay and watch the affection pour in. (To the "I love you" senders reading this, I love you too.)

Time for a nap. Training will have to wait.