luckily my daughter heard my elbow bangs on the back door and opened it up. i got her to run some coldwater and stuck my hands (still in my lightweight early autumn riding gloves) into the cold water. it felt hot. then it felt like fire. then i wanted to cry and double over in pain. the blood returning into my numbed fingers was truly excruciating, so i pulled them out of the water and hopped up and down trying not to say anything i wouldn't want my children to hear.
after a few minutes i managed to pull the gloves off finger-by-finger by using my teeth, at which point i started to blow warm breath on my hands. a little mobility returned. i went upstairs and pulled a warm bath. half an hour later and it was (almost) as if nothing had happened. the mobility and warmth completely returned and i had all my bike gear in the laundry and was giving my daughter a hug for being such a kind person and helping her old dad.
the beautiful side of this? here's a picture of the front of my front lawn . . .
5 comments:
well, I understand the joy in accomplishing a difficult task, and also the underlying perception, which I myself am often guilty of, that advancement can only arise out of suffering, but next time, for the sake of your digits, take a cab!
hi alan, it's interesting to me to note that in the last 24 hours my first born has suggested that i wise up and take a cab (rather than feel the wonderful soul nourishing experience that can arise out of conscious suffering) and that my second-born son has implored me with all his earthly practicality and natural borne-wiles to learn how to drive and abandon the bike as a means of transportation. accept it as recreation and graduate to a hybrid says my dawsonboy. i have no answer for either of you that is worthy. i love my riding. i don't enjoy suffering very much. that the two often accompany each other and define each other is a bit of a bother to me given my 51 years - (yes i know it's not much goldenrod but it still carries a little weight!!!!) no, i'll keep on biking and running and walking and i might try my hand at a license soon as well. that would beearth-shattering and blogworthy to be sure.
dad (steven)
That sounds like you came very close to really harming yourself, Steven. Can't remember ever, in all my years of living up north, having my fingers freeze like that.
Ye Gods! Can you double layer your hands and fingers? Mittens over gloves, for instance? I know it would be awkward, but my goodness! I surely don't want to read another story like that one!!
hi goldenrod, it was strange because i've ridden in temperatures as low as minus 29 celsius - with winter gear on of course - and not felt cold. it was the wind chill, wearing light gloves, soaked light gloves and beyond that i can't explain it. i've hauled out all my winter stuff now though so there won't be anything like that again! this year i'm getting special booties to put over my shoes which contain my feet - the only part of me that almost always gets cold.
steven
Or maybe a plastic baggie over your gloves to keep them from getting wet. That might work!
I can surely relate to cold feet. I wear fur-lined moccasins and wool socks, and it doesn't really get that cold here!
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