Scars make better stories than tatoos

[alpinerabbit]

I have chickenpox scars from two years ago. It was nasty.

[SalsaMTB]

The only cycling related scar I have is from a chainring. Three nice lines going down my left ankle. In some weird way, I really like this scar. It happened last year when I crashed on my mountain bike. I think there used to be 4 lines, but one faded. It makes me sad to think the rest might fade also I know, I'm weird.

[Wahine]

I have chickenpox scars from two years ago. It was nasty.

Ooooooo. I had the chicken pox as an adult. It's nasty. The only place I didn't get them was on my hands and feet. I even had them in my throat and up my nose!!

I looked like hell for months. I didn't go out in public unless I had to for literally 2 months.

Most of my CP scars faded and aren't noticeable except for one on my left rib cage that I scratched like crazy before I figured out what it was.

[Wahine]

Well now that I know there are awards to be had...

I was going to save this one for a night when I'd had a few drinks. But maybe it's better this way.

It was 1997 and I was lucky enough to be chosen to participate in an international level multisport event. This event took place in Whistler BC and was meant to challenge athletes from different walks of life in ways that would produce the best possible visual spectacle. It was ridiculous and it was a made for TV event.

So one of the events was the "Downhill Run". They took us up to the top of mount Whistler and we had to run down the glacier, across a talus field, up a ridge, over another ridge, glacier, talus field and finally down a very steep grade. This would have be a double black diamond run in the winter. At this time of the year, it was snow free and made up of scree, the slate kind.

By the time we got to the scree slope we all had shot quads. We all fell. Now, I don't know if you've ever seen slate when it's broken or chipped, but it's effing sharp. I fell onto my rather large (musclular that is) rear. the moment I got up I could feel the wind on my azz. I continued to run. The cameras continued to roll including helicams and a guy chasing us down the hill with a cam on his shoulder. The whole time I'm thinking "well he's getting an eye full".

So we get to the finish line, and I say to one of the other girls, "I think I tore my tights." To which she replies "Tore your tights? You should see your azz!"

Well I had quite the gash. The athletic trainer came over and I got to lie spread eagle, face down on a big boulder while he tried to clean things up for the next event, about 2 hours away. I'm laying there, getting a huge slash in my butt scrubbed out with a nasty hibitane brush while being interviewed on camera for a nationally sindicated program.

The trainer was unable to clean the gash adequately so he sent me to the clinic in town. They had to freeze me and do a surgical excision. Apparently, I had a piece of Mount Whistler lodged in my left cheek. 17 stitches, a 5" long peice of slate and a flattened area on my bum (they had to take out a bunch of surrounding fat) later, I was good to compete the next day.

My incision healed and my scar looked quite nice until my fat cells decided to fill back out to match the other side, then the scar stretched way out. Now it's pretty hideous. But hidden, unless I wear a thong bikini.

And yes, parts of this whole even did in fact end up in the program, much to my em-bare-azz-ment.

Now that's gotta be worth some kind of an award.

[maillotpois]

Great story Wahine!

I'm like Running Mommy - my body's a total road map, mostly of surgeries, including child removal.

C-section scar (no way that kid's big head was coming out of my on its own! );

Scar on one hand from ganglion removal surgery and on another from a burn as a very little kid;

My knees are covered with little scar patches from childhool injuries;

Most recent long scar on the inside of my calf from "suspicious" mole removal by a riding partner (dermatologist) who decided to go back in and get more after the biopsy. We call her the butcher. She's also a ruthless cyclist;

Oddly, I don't really have any cycling scars, though I have crashed.

DH has a great chainring scar from a stuck gear smashing into his calf on our first century.

[MomOnBike]

I can't come close to some of the stories already posted, but I've got a few - mostly on my hands, poor things, no wonder they hurt.

I've got one on my palm from when I was running in the dark, trailing my hand across a counter, and hit an exposed nail. That probably should have had stitches.

The other (left) hand has a jagged scar across the base knuckle of the thumb from where I was washing dishes and a cheap glass expleoded in my hand and cut a huge gash in my thumb. We cleaned it up as best we could, got ready ... oh, I forgot to mention DH & I were playing a concert that night ... and drove 30 miles into town to the emergency room where I got the hand stitched up. Yes, we were wearing our Concert Blacks.

I had to borrow a different bow (German), 'cause I couldn't handle mine (French), but I played the concert, thankyouverymuch. The thing that stands out about that night was Elder Daughter, as we were wrestling the bass and horn out the door, saying "Don't bleed on your bass, Mommy!"

[Wahine]

I can't come close to some of the stories already posted, but I've got a few - mostly on my hands, poor things, no wonder they hurt.

The other (left) hand has a jagged scar across the base knuckle of the thumb from where I was washing dishes and a cheap glass expleoded in my hand and cut a huge gash in my thumb. We cleaned it up as best we could, got ready ... oh, I forgot to mention DH & I were playing a concert that night ... and drove 30 miles into town to the emergency room where I got the hand stitched up. Yes, we were wearing our Concert Blacks.

I had to borrow a different bow (German), 'cause I couldn't handle mine (French), but I played the concert, thankyouverymuch. The thing that stands out about that night was Elder Daughter, as we were wrestling the bass and horn out the door, saying "Don't bleed on your bass, Mommy!"

I have to say, that's a good story. I love that you played anyway and the bit abot not bleeding on your bass.

[Pax]

One time when I was a kid I was trying to pull a piece of bamboo out by the roots to make a fishing pole, I yanked and pulled and tugged and when it finally came loose I tumbled back wards and fell on to a previously cut piece of bamboo...it poked a couple of inches into my right butt cheek. So there I was, piece of bamboo in my hands and another sharp piece sticking into my cheek...my brother watches this in horror and takes off running to find my folks, I extricate myself from the bamboo and limp over to the road to wait. My dad shows up in our little kharman ghia and tries to figure out how to transport my bleeding butt to the base dispensary...we settled on me being on my hands and knees in the tiny back seat with my head hanging out the window like a St. Bernard. Ten stitches later and I was good as new...now I have what looks like cool bullet hole on my butt cheek