Shattered Dreams, Oh and bones!

                                                    Looking out at Mount Etna

Shattered Dreams, Oh and bones!

Following on from yesterday when I was searching for times in my life that were worse than the current mainly house bound present period, there are a good handful of times when I was considerably less happy than I am today. A burst of the Monty Python song that is such a hit at funerals these days should be sung every morning that we wake until this thing is over so here we go:  

a 1, a 2, a 3 and 4

Some things in life are bad,
They can really make you mad.
Other things just make you swear and curse.
When you're chewing on life's gristle,
Don't grumble, give a whistle!
And this'll help things turn out for the best

And
Always look on the bright side of life!
Always look on the bright side of life  

If you were to take a look at the list I proudly made of my triathlon successes years ago you might notice that 2013 does not appear. The year started well with us planning a holiday in Southern Italy to celebrate our anniversary. We share a love of travel and because of that we spent a good deal of time looking at maps. At that time, the map that I was obsessed with was the foot end of the boot shape, that a map of Italy roughly looks like.

Alberobella

So as always, thinking about making me happy, Steve booked flights for us to Naples.

My husband told me to pick the overnight stops, then he chose the hotels. Cutting this story much shorter we had a marvellous time, long drives with fantastic scenery. On the way south from Naples we could see Sicily getting closer and by the second night the glorious sight of Mount Etna from our balcony. It was an amazing holiday and all of the stops were in the secret Italy list as far as most people are concerned. We worked our way slowly round to the heel end of the foot and on the Saturday night stayed in Lecce that had fabulous Roman ruins in every direction. That meant that we would take a run on Sunday as we always do. We ran five km out of the town on a roman road that we all know means straight. 

Lecce

Soon after we made our turn to head back, I put my foot in a hole and came crashing to the ground. It was opposite a café bar where there were a number of men sitting outside drinking.

Nobody got up to see if they could help. I tried the walk but I knew that my foot had been broken I should add at this point that I am a silent screamer. Steve is saying “Talk to me, say something” I said “Don’t touch me”.

An elderly lady came over from a block of flats carrying a bowl of warm water and towels. She wiped the blood from my arm and with arthritic fingers, picked out chunks of road that were stuck in the flesh here and there. Then she quietly went back to her home.

Steve went to the bar and asked if he could call a taxi but that he did not have any money. The bar man said ‘NO’! It was hard for Steve to help me because it was my right arm and left foot that were damaged. So I was hopping. The next café we came to, after pleading successfully, the guy did call a taxi and allow me to sit outside while we waited. The taxi driver looked at me and said ‘Hospital’ but I found my voice and demanded he take me to our hotel. I turned to Steve and told him that I would not go to a hospital there, and that I would go when we got home. We had two more stops on the tour that I had chosen and Steve tried his hardest to get an earlier flight but everything was fully booked. I was of few words.

The next day we were booked into the astonishing little hill town of Matera. I chose it having seen it on the Tour de France. It was one of those places with steps everywhere. I climbed the steps to the hotel on my butt, and down the same way the next day. Steve had a walk around leaving me in bed. He took loads of photos for me to see later. The next night we were staying close to Pompeii, though there would not be the planned gem of a visit there. 

 

At the airport the next day I stopped Steve asking for a wheelchair in case it meant that we could not get our easy-jet flight. It was a struggle getting up those stairs, agony actually, but once inside the kindly steward had seats moved and I sat just inside the door. When we got to Gatwick he had ordered a wheel chair for me.

After we got through X-ray at Worthing Hospital A & E department, the nurse had came back and said “Well, you have done really well and got a hat trick of breaks”.

                                                             We are not amused 

So that was most of my triathlon season sailing out of the window, starting with the National Aquathlon Championships the next week. I would be stuck indoors with my leg up, and struggling to do anything at all with my good left arm that was broken in two places.

With a qualification from my previous year I had a slot on the GBR team for the ITU World Championships in September in London and with four months to heal there was only an outside chance of me being fit for that.

To be continued.