Boot o’ Doom Visits The ‘Milks
This weekend was one I’d been looking forward to for a while because some of my climber friends would be rolling into town for the weekend. It’d give me a nice break from the long spell of being cooped up at home most of the time. On Sunday, I told them to drag me out to the ‘Milks so I could get some sun and fresh air. It also marked my first return to the the climbing area since I broke my foot three weeks ago.
It was a typical brilliant Bishop spring day. Sun was fierce, the sky was clear and the air cool. Another great day to climb.
The hardy desert plants were starting to flower.
As always, the natural attraction of Iron Man Traverse was seeing lots of attempts that day.
And when everyone’s all climbed out, what better is there to do than a little ping-pong outside?
A late rush to the mountaintop to catch the setting sun. Only problem was that we were too late and missed it.
So how about some beer and pizza?
E&D Wedding - March 2008
Now that the bride, groom and family have seen the photos, I’m free to share some of my favorites from the wedding shoot a couple weeks ago over in Arlington, VA.
In terms of a good time, this was one of the best I’ve seen. Everyone was there to have a good time, and they sure did!
What Would Jesus Do With $1.42?
So, apparently when I traded in my car for my truck, the dealer overpaid the pay-off amount by a little bit. I got a check from VW Credit for $1.42.
Wooooo!!!! What should I buy?
Wide-Angle Fun, or Why You Don’t Shoot People at 12mm
I was organizing my photo library when I ran across those snapshots that were taken at the Tullier residence back in January when I stopped by. The discussion started off with something when I mentioned that wide angle lens make people look unflattering. And, Tate’s like “how? what do you mean?” So I put the Sigma 12mm on my 5D and let him and Sarah have at it.
Here, I look like I came off the set of ‘Coneheads’.
No, Tate doesn’t weigh 450 pounds. :) 
A much more normal looking Tate indicating his high opinion on something, whatever. 
Soho (and his willy) getting the 12mm treatment.
I need to stop by and visit again!
Me doing my Thing
I did a wedding in DC earlier this month. The always wonderful Kerry Gastley who I’d assisted on numerous occasions in the past was happy to come out and flip roles, she’d be assisting for me that day - she sent over her pictures and included two pictures of me.
The one above, I did not even remember. I sat here for a couple minutes racking my head when this happened. I wondered if the fall had jarred something loose in my head as well, but it finally came to me that it was a test pose to check for the light quality. I was probably running around with a million things on my head that I don’t even remember sitting on the couch. But here I am all formal, holding my beloved 5D and 35L. I like it for some reason…
And then this picture. You can see theres a bunch of nasty looking clouds about to wreak havoc. The day started off with some really lousy rainy weather, then when people started arriving, it looked to be clearing up and there was actually some sunshine. I started prodding the bride and groom to get ready faster so that I could escort them outside to get some outdoor shots with the late afternoon sun.
But alas, by the time everyone was ready, the clouds had moved back in and the wind started blowing crap around. We took a quick few shots outside with the groomsmen before running back in the club.
And of course, I couldn’t help but look at my right foot. My working, un-fucked-up foot only nine days away from its fate.
3/17 - Never Forget
I caught myself doing something yesterday that struck me as odd. I’ve been using the day of my accident as a time-reference. I was looking at some issues to resolve at work, and I checked the date on one of them, which said 3/18/2008. My first thought was, “the day after i broke my foot”. I thought about it for a minute before getting back to work.
Then this morning I hopped out from the bedroom into the living room and looked at the three new pieces of furniture I picked up at the yard sale. My initial thought? “I got those the day before I broke my foot”.
I’ve started picking up stuff around the house, and giving some thought to what I’ll be packing up. I know I have a month (six weeks post-broke-foot) before I move, but I might as well get started.
Unexpected Detours
Theres a funny little story that happened just over three years ago in France when Gabe and I were doing our Euro-Bouldering Tour of 2004. Our last stop on the tour was the holy grail of all bouldering, Fontainebleau. I’ll leave descriptions of how insanely great the bouldering is there to another post, but if you boulder, and you haven’t been out there yet, then you’re missing out!
We met up with another group of climbers who knew Gabe, and we all rented a cottage for the week, situated in some little off-the-road farm about five kilometers north of Fontainebleau. On one of our rest days, most of us wanted to make the hour-long drive up to Paris to sight-see.
So we left early in the morning in my rental car, and a hour later we found ourselves in Paris looking for a parking spot. Think there’s a reason that those petite Smart cars are popular there? We searched for a good half hour before giving up, coughing up the euros and parking in a garage.
After a good full day in Paris, we were ready to head back to the cottage. We picked up our rental car and with me behind the wheel again, we drove on out of the city and for about ten kilometers, things were looking good. The route was pretty simple. Just take A6 southwards out of Paris, drive 100km, turn off at the Fontainebleau exit and make our way home. No problem.
Until we saw the first sign ahead indicating that A6 was closed.
And that was it. Just a sign saying A6 was closed, and to exit immediately. I found myself at an dark T-intersection in some small town, steering wheel in hand and no idea where to go. And there were NO detour signs.
I dont know if its how the French operate, or if it was some emergency closure, but where were the detour signs? I had no idea where to go, to get back on A6, further ahead. I turned to look at my passengers, who all shrugged. Who knows? Annnd, the road map that the rental company so kindly gave me only covered Paris itself. We traced cities that we’d passed on A6 downwards till we ran out of map. The map was useless.
I looked both ways and made a left.
We drove on for a couple kilometers, before hitting some town. I made a right on their main street, figuring we’d be going parallel with A6. We left the town behind and kept on driving… ten, twenty minutes in complete darkness. At that time I had no idea if we were anywhere close to A6 or if we were heading for the Atlantic ocean for all we knew.
We approached another town, and after a few more kilometers of driving, one of the passengers told me he’d get out and try to get directions. I nodded and turned my attention back to the road and right at that very second, a large road sign with the letters A6 and a helpful arrow emerged from the darkness. The car erupted with cheering from everyone inside and I quickly scooted the car back on A6 and we were back on our way to Fontainebleau.
I’ve been drawing on analogies a lot while working my way through this broken foot ordeal. I look back at times when things seemed lost, or hopeless, and how sometimes things just happen when you don’t expect it.
I left Minneapolis on January 10th of this year. I went on this amazing 3,500 mile road trip where I saw many amazing sights, friends and family. I rolled into Bishop one cold morning after ten days of driving, to make a home for a while, to climb, to do photography. The next two months in Bishop were nothing short of awesome. I met so many people climbing, I took so many photographs and have had so much to reflect on.
The next part of this journey, some time next year - was to eventually head to San Francisco where I’d start a new life and make new friends in a new city.
But to use the analogy, A6 has been closed. I need to take a unexpected detour. Today, I gave my landlord notice that I’d be moving out at the end of April. I don’t know where I’m going to go. I can go back to Minnesota and recover, then head to SF later this year. Or I can head to SF right now. Still figuring out my options.
But one thing’s for certain.. the route changed. We will see where it takes me.
An Expectant Night
To say that I was stressed out the night before the doctor’s appointment is an understatement. I was sitting on the recliner sunday night and I stared at my booted foot and said, “I’ll do my best to prevent them from cutting you up, if you get busy and heal up fast, okay? Deal?”
I’d like to say that my foot twitched in agreement. Or it might have just been a twitch.
I crutched on out of my house that night. It was one of those typical Bishop nights. Clear, starry skies, a fat moon hanging low over the mountains and cool dry air.
I took a few pictures, then started crutching back home. I was tired and wanted to sleep. I wanted to have a tangible resolution. Surgery, or no surgery? How many weeks before I could walk again?
I woke up early in the morning, did some work, then giving myself adequate time, I pulled together my keys, phone and sunglasses and started crutching the three blocks to the hospital. I guess you could say I’m really fortunate to live so close by, so I don’t need to try to find someone to give me a ride.
I suppose I could… but I didn’t want to sit on my ass for six weeks. I need to get some excercise. And boy, I’ll tell you, crutching three blocks is a good workout.
Arriving at the orthopedic’s office, a nurse saw me first, explained that they’d be cutting off my bandages and taking another look at my foot. Some of you may remember the rather nasty picture of my foot I posted last week. Now I was curious how much better (or worse) it’d look, three days later.
Another new development with my foot was that my entire leg below the knee had turned yellow, and there was a huge purple bruise spreading all the way from my ankle to my knee. I pointed that out to the nurse and she said that was probably normal and not to be concerned about.
So, off the bandages came. And here’s what my foot looked like (a bit less gross). The fracture blisters were all gone, slightly less bruising and less swollen. Definitely an improvement after three days!
The orthopedic doctor came in and put up the film from the CT scan. I initially saw the white outlines and thought, “Shit, my heel bone is really fucked up.”
But after the doctor explained a bit more, I realized that this was a horizional cross scan of my foot (as if you were looking at it from the top), and those white outlines are actually the bone structure going vertically up and down, and disappearing off the field of view. So it should not be considered the actual outline of my heel bone.
The REAL fracture (two actually) is that dark gap running through the bottom right part. The doctor drew arrows to indicate where the bone normally should be.
So rather than my heel bone being a good half inch out of whack, the piece is actually about 1-2 mm out of place.
The doctor then said the words I’d been waiting for a whole week. “Surgery will not be necessary.” I breathed a huge sigh of relief. He added that surgery could be done to reduce the fracture and restore normal heel structure. I asked him about possible long term problems if I didn’t go with surgery. He said my heel would be slightly wider.. might have problems fitting some shoes (like climbing shoes, ha ha..) - but he didn’t foresee any major problems.
I told him I’d skip surgery. He made no argument, so that further confirmed to me that in the doctor’s mind, he didn’t think it was necessary.
We then discussed the healing process. I’ll need to come back in three weeks from now to have another set of x-rays made. This will be to confirm that the pieces have not unexpectedly moved, or are not healing properly. If the x-rays reveal nothing wrong, then it will be another three weeks of healing, before I can start walking again.
So, that puts me at May 5th when I hopefully will be able to start walking again!
No Surgery!
Just got back from the doctor, and surgery wont be necessary! Ill have to wear the boot-o-doom for 6 weeks then I’ll have to learn to walk all over again, but at least its a step (ha ha) forward!
I have pictures and more to write up about the visit, but will do that later tonight.
It too, will pass.
The Dark Mile
Last spring/summer when I started training for the marathon, I had a typical route that took me from my house, across dupont circle and down to the banks of the Potomac where I’d run up to the Jefferson Memorial and then head back home, i often ran it late at night when the weather was cooler and traffic was less burdensome.
A particular stretch along the bank of the river just past the Kennedy Center is rather dimly lit at night. I’d literally be running in near darkness, only able to see a few yards ahead of me. It’d also be about 2-3 miles into the run, and when I was just starting out, that’d be when my initial energy would fade, and I’d start gasping for breath, my footsteps would stumble, and the dark shadows of trees would hang menacingly above me, cold and impersonal. After a while, I came to term it the “dark mile“.
The dark mile was both physically and mentally challenging, because I’d be starting to doubt whether I’d be ready for the marathon, whether I’d have the gumption to do it, if I was running out of steam after only two or three miles, how could I hope to do 26.2?
But I found that if I forced myself to keep going on. I’d pick up a second wind. My body would become accustomed to the pace and my breathing, circulation and rythm would settle down and I’d be able to leave the dark mile behind and continue to finish out my route.
As I became a stronger runner, that dark stretch along the Potomac no longer was the point where I’d start feeling fatigued, but rather, miles later on. But the term stuck. Whenever I was pushing my limits, a new distance, and I found myself struggling, I would remind myself, “this is just your dark mile.. and it too, will pass“. It was a powerful mental tool for me to just keep pushing, even when things seem their worst.
And why do I mention this now? Most of you can probably guess it has something to do with me breaking my foot. I woke up this morning, nearly suffocated with depression and anxeity. My online research on heel bone fractures revealed many stories about long, difficult recoveries, and with Gabe leaving Bishop, I’d be completely on my own.
My mind kept flashing back to that terrifying moment when my foot slipped, seeing the ground rushing up at me, and realizing at the very last split second that I was going to miss the crash pad, then that awful crunching feeling in my right foot, the pain and rage I felt. I felt sick to my stomach. I rolled out of bed and went in the kitchen and had some cereal, but it just made me feel worse.
I felt nearly crushed this morning by feelings about my recovery, and those flashbacks to the accident.
I need to remind myself, this is the dark mile. I need to stay strong and look ahead. It too, will pass.