Get Down With the Sickness….

Fuck. Fuck fuck. Fucking fuck fuck fuckity fuck fuck FUCK.

I hurt my knee on Sunday. 
Sometimes people really are as stupid as they seem.

It seems like no matter what I do sometimes I can’t avoid it. At least that is what I tell myself. That there was no way I could see it coming. That it was unavoidable. It was out of my control. But now, now that all of it has come to the surface, I can actually tell you a million different ways it could have been avoided.

After the fact. Once the injury, report, ticket, subpoena is issued, only then and only then is hindsight 20/20. I have fucking eagle-eye hindsight. Sometimes I can see better solutions so clearly I can see my own ass as it is obviously not following my own advice.

Chasing Chinese people around False Creek isn’t exactly the perfect past time but it has its ups and downs. That’s exactly what I was up to this weekend though. Dim Jing (as we’ll call him) has become somewhat of a weekend tradition insofar as we meet in a previously disclosed location then I run his ass off against some beautiful backdrop of mountains, oceans, beaches, or hot ladies (or all of the above, wink). It is a considerably nicer event than say Thursday’s where I start at the same spot, run to the same spot alone, then return to my home as fast as I can humanly muster. All of this I continually tell myself is ‘speed work’. 
Running with someone has it’s benefits though. We run at a considerably slower pace, all the better to carry on a conversation. We make a point of going to new places, maybe not every week but we do explore a lot of the city together. You don’t look as fucking creepy as you do when people pass you and you have the ‘I just ran 15 miles and I have to run 5 more or I turn into a purple pumpkin, and I’m so hungry if you slow down even 3 sec/km I am going to take a bite out of your ass’ look (if you don’t know what that is just take a mirror with you next time, you’ll get there). 
Regardless, we had just left Kitsilano beach and my knee was starting to hurt. I didn’t stop for 3 reasons:
1) It didn’t hurt that bad
2) I didn’t want to have to quit running with Dim Jing early (he usually joins me for about half of my long Sunday run and I didn’t think he would want to quit early, though I never asked)
3) I am horribly bad at taking care of myself
5) I am an idiot

If you are asking yourself ‘I am pretty sure he said there was only 3 reasons?!?’ maybe read the 5th to yourself again.

It’s so important to take care of yourself. It’s one of the most important things we do. It’s not just about running/swimming/volleyball/getting fucking swole, it’s mental as well.

My son, Admiral Nomis, made Valentines cards for his class. Because the best way to honour any dead Christian is to waste paper. He was showing me his haul (he’s a fucking stud, got so many cards from all the guys and gals, just like his poppa ‘wipes dirt off his shoulder’), and started to break out laughing. Now you think you understand what a six-year-old laughing to himself is like, but your wrong. Imagine you’re being tickled, and over tired, and drunk, and you have a horrible concussion. This is essentially what being a 6yo is, constantly in a state of inebriated, oppressed, head trauma. He was laughing because he wanted to find one particular Valentine. When he finds it, he is so overcome he can’t even tell me why he finds it so funny.

It was familiar, considering I bought the Valentines for his class. It simply said “You are Awesome” with a picture of some Marvel superhero’s, and it said:
To: Simon
From: Simon

We laughed together, after all it was funny. But I am also very quick to give him some advice. It was probably the most important Valentine he got. I try to teach both of my kids that it is important to accept themselves, that they are the most important and ONLY people they need to take care of right now. The best way for them to learn how to take care of someone else is to figure out how to meet their own needs.

What makes them happy? How do they know that it will make them happy? How do they know they are happy? These are all great things to discover early so you can apply them to later interactions with others.

At this point it becomes pretty obvious I have no idea how to take care of myself. Constantly tired, getting injured, and finally unable to interact with even my own kids, the man preaching ‘taking care of one’s self’ has a fairly black pot…. or kettle…. or something I have no idea. Anyway I stand I soft ground.

So here is stand warts, heating packs, ibuprofen, foam roller, and all. Take me as I am. 
I solemnly swear to stretch after I run.
I swear to spend more time building and maintaining muscle and less using it to travel fun places.
I swear to stop chasing chinese men around the inlet (unless they ask me to).
And I swear I will continue to help my kids to love themselves, so they can love each other.

But for now, I will rest and repair.

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