Losing Your Inhaler At Mile 1 Sucks...

This weekend we had what was supposed to be a going away party for my old shoulder.  The last fete before the three week lock down of doctor's ordered "no fun."  In attempting to plan what we'd do as our last big hurrah! my best friend and I tossed around some ideas...dancing....movie....clubbing....drinking.  What to do...what to do...

But in the fashion that is true to us, we chose to do a run.

We were signed up to run the race, got all dressed up (because this was a race you get dressed up for...).  We had neon thigh high striped socks, glow sticks, day glow clothing, fabulous hair, the works.

When we got there, my first indication that it was to be a super fun night was the reading on the car dash....  

 

Yea, that would be 98 degrees.  Of awesomeness.  With 8,000 other people.  As I finished the first mile my lungs gave me an indication that they weren't happy.  So I pulled out my inhaler to get a little puff puff of relief and...boom.  It was gone.  In the chaos of those 8,000 other runners, my inhaler disappeared.  And so, I was left, breathless.  I finished the race the best I could.  But given the lack of air, my finish time was exceptionally disappointing.  But, even more disappointing was the end result.

I've now got full blown bronchitis and my surgeon won't touch me with a 10 foot pole.

So I'll be living with hamburger shoulder another month.  But at least I can snorkel, fish, run, and kyak on vacation!