Everyone knows that I am quite frequently broken. I have bad wrists (when I attempt a mantle top out, my hands tend to go numb, and sometimes stay that way for hours or even days). I have a bad knee (blew it out hiking the Grand Canyon on our honeymoon four years ago, and it still gives me trouble on a daily basis). I'm constantly tweaking tendons, rolling my ankles, straining my back, and lots of other usually undignified and embarrassing manners of injuring oneself. Like the time my foot slipped off the traverse at McKinney Falls, and I dead legged the landing after falling the six or so inches, and ended up limping for a week and a half.
Every now and then, Tim also gets broken, but his brokenness generally comes from some badass something or another. Like the time he broke his finger throwing for the lip on Evil Eyes, or hurt his knee Archemedes Lever (which I'm almost certain I just misspelled). He's always at least doing something cool.
Well, now he's broken pretty badly, and unfortunately this time there's no cool story to go with it. The official diagnoses is a ruptured tendon sheath in his left bicep. It's a repetitive stress type of injury, which according to his chiropractor most people would never even know that they have. Apparently (and who didn't see this coming), Tim's tendency to just work through the pain all the goddamn time isn't really the best way to handle mild injuries. In fact, it turns them into not so mild injuries. Who knew?! Not Tim, obviously. So, after finally getting someone with a medical degree to back me up, he's been taking some time off from climbing and shoulder-y workouts.
Which unfortunately means so have I, partly out of solidarity but mostly because I'm too lazy to carry two crash pads around all by myself. That, and it's already topping out in the 80's and on a few days the 90's around here, which of course is too hot to do much of anything.
The good news is, man oh man are we getting a lot of projects done around the house.
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