One rib, to go

I've had at least three memorable rib injuries in the past.

I was running in a church one night as a kid.  I tripped and fell sternum first into the corner of a pew.  Being a rural boy and not really knowing that I might have injured my xiphoid process, I mighta told my parents.  I don't think I did.  I have an unusual lump on my sternum now.

I was racing the local short track series here in Charlotte.  Two races in, I had a second and a first place in the SS category.  After the second race, I managed to snap a rib while cleaning my bike.   Seriously.  Long story short, I ended up struggling to breathe in the last three races and barely escaped with third overall.

2007 Icycle.  I either broke a rib after riding the downhill course in my pajamas after drinking many beers and a bottle of Mad Dog, or Nick the Stick broke it for me by putting his knee into my chest in an attempt to stop me from trying to instigate him into a wrestling match.

This new injury is one that will be remembered.  I have never felt anything like it before.  No stabbing pain and no decreased breathing capacity.  Just a tightening of the area when I need to use it, a feeling that something wants to give way and a certain surge of awkward electricity.
When?

Whenever in daily living.  Reaching for something, opening a door, picking something up, swiveling in the driver's seat to back up, laughing... there's a nice long list of uncomfortable activities.

While riding?  Any time I need to pull up on the bars, more specifically the right hand side.

When accelerating.

When mounting.

When dismounting.

When lifting the front end up to get over things.

When trying to get on on the gas in order to clear a steep section...

Pretty much when any kind of effort greater than seated pedaling occurs.

Of course, last week when The Pie RN told me to start taking anti-inflammatory medication, I did not listen very well.  Another long story, but I'm not a fan of putting drugs in my system.  I know it would help reduce the healing time.  I didn't care.

And then I rode in Wilson's Creek.

It hurt.  It was quite limiting.  I normally only hike-a-bike one short section on Sinkhole.  I ended up doing it a whole lot more than a baggy short clad rider riding a single chain ring pillow known as a DH bike.

Actually not.  Those guys walk a lot out there.  They should try single speeding.

I came home and started taking ibuprofen.

I've got less than a week till the Eleventy-one/Fiftyfivepointfive weekend, and then less than a week before I head up to the Trans-Sylvania Epic.

I'm not in the best place mentally, but I'm cautiously optimistic.  Heating pads, a constant stream of drugs, deliberate movements, careful riding at work...

That's all I got for now.  We'll see how much it can improve with six days of trying to give a shit.