The day prior my brother raced and completed is first normal sprint triathlon. Now I had a race of my own.
I was gonna pee, gosh darnit. After several attempts the day before with no success and the unpleasant use of a catheter. I was ready and I was gonna win this race. I whimpered my way to an upright position then slowly and with a grimace I eeked to a standing position. I wheeled my IV pole to the bathroom, lifted the thin vail that covered my special region and pushed like the dickens….. nothing! I was bummed.
I was not ready to give up, so with steadfast effort I leaned against the wall and gave it the old steady sustained push and eventually a small dribble turned into a glorious stream. It was relief to my ears to hear the sweet sound. I exited the bathroom, hunched over with stomach pain but arms raised in celebration, fully filled bottle in one hand and my IV pole in the other. Very rarely have I ever experience such joy.
I quickly thought the hospital staff wouldn’t appreciate a crazed patient fist pumping his own urine in the hallway. So I quietly returned to my room, set my bottle down where the nurse could see my success and went for a victory lap around the hospital. I like to think the hospital staff could see the joy in my eyes but they probably felt sorry for me with my hunched shuffle walk.
I returned to my bed and my Dad came. He gave me a fist bump after seeing my proudly displayed bottle and we knew it was only a matter of time before I would be out of there.
While I didn’t get to race in San Luis Obispo, I think I got that sense of accomplishment that finishing my first normal triathlon would give me. Even though it was a bit unorthodox, I finished my race and I was proud of my brother. Now, well after two weeks of light exercising (doctor prescribed), the Running Brothers will be training for their next event.