I miss my epidermis

Three friends. 330km. One lost tent. One set of car keys missing. Three flat tires. One freshly torn ACL graft. Several thousand mg of ibuprofen. Three square inches of epidermis gone. So far, so good.

When it comes to your epidermis, it really is true that you don't know what you've got 'til its gone.

I'm missing mine. Right over my ischial tuberosities (i.e. bum).

Last weekend I took part in the Seattle to Portland bike ride. It was pretty incredible, we biked just under 330km in two days. About 10,000 people participate and its fully supported so you have food stops along the way, and you meet the most amazing people of all shapes, sizes, ages and walks of life. The first day was beautiful sunshine all day. Day two however involved plenty of rain, wind and three flats in our group. At moments I knew without a shadow of a doubt that it was not physically or mentally possible for me to finish the race. I had no idea I could bike that far! Unfortunately, I assumed that pain was normal when biking these distances...of course this is true, but there's pain and then there's bleeding.

I found it philosophically fascinating, that I have been trained so well. Manicured and groomed not to listen to my body. To ignore feelings of exhaustion and push to 36 hours with no sleep. To pretend that feeling rotten is just part of the race (or the job). To completely disconnect from the signals my body gives me. Fascinating.

Don't get me wrong, the race was awesome, and I'd do it again... but next time I'd listen. Walking around like a wounded cowboy just isn't worth it.