Stupid Little Piggies: The Tale of a Broken Toe

I wish I could attribute my broken toe to a cool mountain bike accident… but I can't. Nope. This time, it was the preparation for a mountain bike ride that did me in. I know, sometimes it is just better to lie about our injuries.

To gain perspective on this, we'll have to go back a week. As all of you who live on Earth know, when the fall comes, the days get shorter (unless you live in the southern hemisphere... stupid rotational axis). Because of this phenomenon, I have been unable to ride some of my favorite trails (Wakefield, Accotink, etc.) after work because it simply gets dark too soon. So in the run up to Columbus Day, I have been talking non-stop about how I'm gonna "ride all day long" and have the best day ever on that upcoming day off work. I had been continually checking the weather for rain (there was none), and loaded up my hydration pack with food (and water) the night before for my day of adventure. It was all going according to plan.

So yesterday, in the final minutes of preparation before for my "epic ride," I had this great idea to wash my bike. After all, I had a bunch of mud and crap on there from my previous rides, and I didn't want anything to hamper the ride on which I was about to embark. I wanted a well-oiled machine. But washing a bike isn't as easy at it seems. At our condo, we have a large, private enclosed outdoor patio in the front yard, but we don't have a hose. So to wash my bike, I have to fill a large bucket of water in our kitchen sink and drag it outside. You can see where this is going.

Once the bucket was filled, I briskly walked (although a bit off-centered due to the weight of the bucket) towards the front door. I wanted to get this done. I wanted to ride! It was then, in my haste, of course, when I slammed my bare foot into the hard, wooden leg to our sofa chaise – and I mean slammed.

You know when you smack your toe, and it hurts real bad, the pain usually subsides after a minute or two? That doesn't happen when you break the thing. It hurts like all Hades. I laid face down, on the chaise, and growled curses and yelps for about 10 minutes before I finally was coherent enough to notice that I dropped, and thus, spilled, the bucket of water on the landing by the front door. But that didn't upset me as much as the idea that I might not be able to ride did! So I waited for a few minutes. During that time, I mopped the front room while the pain settled in my middle toe (left foot).

5 years ago, I had broken the neighboring piggy on the same foot. That time I went to the hospital (not knowing that there is nothing they can do), so I knew what to look for this time. 20 minutes later there was no swelling, so I said "to heck with it," washed my bike and went on my ride. Oh, how very dumb that was. Apparently, when you break a bone – any bone – your body raises its temperature as a defense mechanism prior to the repair work it will be engaged in. Well, as many of you know, it was 90+ degrees here yesterday with matching humidity. It sure made for one "epic" ride alright. I thought I was going to die.

So I come home 3 hours later (hardly the "day of riding" I had planned), take off my sock to find a puffy (and black) toe. Of course, there is nothing I can do but "tough it out" and walk with a very pronounced limp (which is pure torture wearing dress shoes today).

I have no reason to post this. No message. No moral to the story. I just like to complain when I hurt, and this blog allows me to reach a deeper community for sympathy. And I do need sympathy. After all, my wife laughed at me for washing my bike before my ride. And she's right... what was I thinking???