Dental, day two

The second day of dental work after a crown come out on July 4th was uneventful although protracted.  The first attempt at a permanent mold wasn't successful because I couldn't keep my jaw bite still enough for the entire five minute setting period, so evidently it got some bubbles in it.  Another five minute period was ordered up, which evidently was satisfactory this time around.

I remember a lot of drooling, due to all the stuff I had in my mouth for minutes at a time.  I wondered where the tiny swing-away porcelain sink was which my former dentist had.  Nowadays they do a lot of vacuuming up of saliva, give you tissues to wipe your chin with and if necessary to get grit out of your mouth, a dixie cup half full of water with which you can drink, swish and swirl, spit back into and give back to the tech.

Then I sat through a couple of sittings for settings for the temporary crown (I must have moved my jaw again and introduced bubbles on the first time), it was cemented in and I was done for two weeks while the mold was sent away to the lab so a permanent crown could be made.  There was no drilling this time, except for some rasping and buzzing with a dull bit to remove the excess cement or clay or play-dough or whatever they used in the oral cavity.

I once used a temporary crown for fourteen months while I gathered enough money to come in to sit for a mold for a permanent crown.  There isn't any dental insurance in this country that is worthwhile so dental work tends to be on a pay-as-you go basis, if you do it at all.  My last dentist told me just before she retired that she knew me as an emergency-basis-only client, a challenge overtime I walked through the door.  She was the best, but I was liking Nick already because of his dedication, care and solicitous nature.

He Wished He Had The Guts To Just Run Me Down

I went out on an adventure run of six miles yesterday, running through Tysons Corner from the Spring Hill Metro Station on the Silver Line back to my house in Falls Church.  The Silver Line is the newest extension of the Metro system, pushing it out a dozen miles to the west, where it will eventually reach Dulles Airport, if the system doesn't totally fall apart and close down first due to forty years of serious maintenance neglect.

I have run home now from all of the new elevated subway stations on the Silver Line save one and each run has been memorial in its own way, primarily due to the bewildering series of new roadways and controlled-access highways out there, making it in places a nightmare for runners unfamiliar with the area.  Pedestrian-friendly the area is not, and I immediately got seriously lost in an asphalt wasteland valley hemmed in by towering steel canyons within blocks of leaving the station twice, although I had studied the map long and hard each time plotting a course home.

Yesterday's adventure brought with it an encounter with road rage, where li'l ol' me running across an intersection on a circular green light (for my direction) but also contrary to a Don't Walk signal for me (the Walk signal doesn't ever come on without the pedestrian pushing it first, perhaps in the next cycle) so enraged an overweight male SUV driver coming up behind me at speed to make a sweeping right turn because he had to slow down a bit because I was there in the roadway running across (well ahead of him) that he almost ran me down in his quivering self righteous indignation.  As mentioned, I had the steady green light (but also a Don't Walk signal) as I ran up, all crossway cars were stopped, no opposing cars were turning left into my way and I glanced backwards to ensure that no one was close behind me that was going to turn right, into me as I crossed.  Nothing was amiss and I ran across the intersection on my steady green light (no green arrows) but in opposition to the non-functioning (unless you pushed it) Don't Walk signal.

I had passed these type intersections before on this very four lane highway in traffic-friendly, runner-unfriendly Fairfax County, where you get a walker advance signal only if you stop to push a cross-button and wait for it to take effect.  Not busting across those intersections when it was safe to do so, after watching its elements as you ran up upon it, including glancing behind you for immediate danger as you entered the roadway, would make for a very long, chopped up run indeed.

When I was 4/5 of the way across the immediate crossway lanes, just about to cross the centerline and run past the stopped cars waiting upon their steady red light (my light was still steady green, I could have made it across easily even if my light had turned yellow at that point), I heard a long honk. Behind me the aforementioned SUV had come up at speed and made a sweeping right turn into the lane tat I was possessing and he had to break (hard) to avoid possibly running me down.  I turned to see who was honking at me and this quivering mass of lazy, soft corpulence inside his steel and glass 2,000 pound beast was pointing in rage at the Don't Walk signal.  He had almost ran me, a mere 185 pounds of flesh and bone, down from behind.  I pointed out the steady green light which was also mine and told him in two words exactly what I thought of him and the situation he had created by his excessive speed, recklessness and lack of appreciation for anything outside of his steel cacoon (he was probably texting too).

He honked again, long and loud at me, and pointed even more emphatically, stabbing the air in the direction of the Don't Walk signal.  I noticed he didn't roll down his window, the coward.  I repeated my imprecation, in case he hadn't heard it the first time, turned and ran on.

It's always a pleasure to run in Fairfax County, where they don't take kindly to pedestrians or runners.  But I did run past Long John Silver and I topped off my run at the end with a serious hill by doing the six ramps in the WFC Metro Station parking garage.

 

Adding Days & Miles

This week featured five runs totaling twenty-one miles, which is just where I want to be.  It started off quietly enough with a one-mile run on Sunday to the Metro garage, where I keep my car under cover during inclement weather, to pick up my car without a parking fee during off-hours.

Tuesday I ran four and a half miles at noon on the Mall with a co-worker; and Wednesday I did an LSD of 10K on the Mall with another co-worker who is pushing out her mileage as she prepares for a HM the month after next.  Thursday it was back to four and a half miles at noon with yet another co-worker, running the Hill twice (at the beginning and end of the run) as is customary in my runs on the Mall these days.

Today I went out to Fairfax and ran five and a third miles with John in an outing that was more akin to a hash-house outing (without the drinking at the end) than a regular run.  Because of the leftover snow mounds from last week's big storm still left piled on the sidewalks we ran down unaccustomed highways and byways that took us through unfamiliar places (backyards, marshy fields, alongside highways with no sidewalks) and uncertain elements (through patches of black ice, across snowpack, past hissing geese).

I'm not even recording the elapsed time of each outing anymore as my running style has changed so much from pre-injury (2009) to post-comeback (2011).  I've gone from a race a week to two races a year, and from track training and tempo runs to mere outings mostly in a social mode, but it keeps me out there running.

Running in Fairfax

Yesterday was a cold, rainy day but I got four miles of running in with my weekend running buddy, J.  He lives next to the Government Center in Fairfax and you'd be surprised at the extent of trails and wooded patches out that way.

It's a little hilly out there too, it seemed that no matter which direction we were running it was always uphill, even when we doubled back after two miles.  There were other runners out and about as well, despite the challenging elements.

Layering is the answer on such days, wicking clothes next to the skin and fleece on top of it all.  In about forty minutes we'd done our appointed distance and by mid-morning on Saturday we each had our weekend still stretching out ahead of us. 

Afterwards, cold and sodden, we retired to a nearby Starbucks for Vanilla Blonde Roast coffee and a little girl watching.  I love the current style of boots that women wear these days and I watched an interesting and stylish procession of women walk in and out of the store in towering high heeled zippered suede boots, low-cut multi-buckled biker boots, rumpled buccaneer boots, boots with a flair over the knees, flat-soled black boots, Ugg boots, hush puppy style boots, high snow-pak boots, fleece lined boots, anklet high heel boots, French poodle boots, boots with a split back and old-style high lace up boots as J hummed the Nancy Sinatra tune, These boots are made for walking...