Oh the shame, the shame...

Runners are pretty hard core and most of us have a pretty high tolerance for pain and/or discomfort. Even courageously so. Some of us have been known to stubbornly run races with fractured feet. (Not that I'm calling you out Diana... You know I love ya, and I'd have done the same thing...OK, let's be honest here...I have done the same thing...).

Some continue to run, even when the shiz is running down the legs.

From this year's Boston Marathon...I've never gotten to this stage...but lord knows it's been close a few times

I documented on several occasions on this blog, that I'll stupidly courageously through a fair amount of pain, like the time two years ago when I ran the Carlsbad 1/2 marathon with an injured IT Band, an experience that resulted in this beauty...

OH yeah...that's pretty. I still have scaring from it.

I've run sans toenails, with pulled tendons, sore muscles, clicky knees, intestinal distress, plantar fasciitis, the occasional hangover, and I've proven on multiple occasions, that I can, even if I haven't trained enough, just endure and finish a race if I have to.

I'm just that stupidly courageously stubborn.

But there's one place, where I have, apparently, no tolerance for pain or discomfort.

The dentist

(da, da, da, dummmmmmmmm)

Don't get me wrong, I just found a fabulous dentist. During the procedure, I had a massage. (seriously, you can request a massage therapist to keep you relaxed...heck ya!) I listened to tunes. I could have watched a movie, but decided not to. I had a neck pillow. The dentist, his hygenist, and the staff does just about everything to make sure that the patients are comfortable (or as comfortable as one can be at the dentist).

It's not him. It's me. Apparently, I'm a wuss.

I don't know why, but as I get older, I seem to have less and less tolerance for dental work. This morning, a couple cavities and a cap required (I kid you not), four shots of Novocain.

After the third shot of Novocain, I could still feel that shooting-sharp pain from the drill,  I actually told my dentist "just let me know how much longer you have to drill. I can bear it for a 10 count. I'VE RUN A MARATHON! I can do this!"

I'm pretty sure I took him by surprise, but he suggested that I try nitrous oxide instead.

I thought to myself, "What? Does he think I'm making this UP and it doesn't really hurt and all I need to do is relax? Did I mention that I RAN A MARATHON? I'M RUNNING A 1/2 NEXT WEEKEND? I am NOT A WIMP!"

Yeah, that sort of bravado was all in my head. On the outside, I was a mess, so, since I was near having a teary melt-down, I opted for the nitrous oxide, which was an admittedly good buzz.

I will also say, that most of this blog was a HECKUVA LOT FUNNIER in my head as I drafted it in my head under the Nitrous haze.

BTW...even with the nitrous, I needed another shot of Novacain, which proves that I was NOT JUST MAKING IT UP!

Surviving the dentist will surely make next Saturday's 1/2 Mary seem like cake...right?

LOL...The shame...the shame...the shame...