Running in Skirts

Warning: This entry contains graphic pictures of an elbow injury.

Being a woman in Saudi Arabia means that your options for physical activity are severely limited.  If you do anything outside, you have to do it in an abaya.  If you have a job, it's going to be an office job with very little activity (the general consensus is that women are too delicate to handle physical labor).  When you are at home, your duties include housework if you are poor, or supervising the Philippino maid if you are middle class or above.  All social gatherings that you are allowed to attend with other women involve food as a matter of tradition.  So, basically, weight gain is inevitable here.

In an effort to shed the many pounds gained during the school year an look good for the summer vacation, many of the teachers at school are now on a special diet, which involves taking a hormone pellet, that basically tricks your body into thinking it is pregnant.  Somehow, this makes you loose weight.  I've had it explained to me several times, but I just can't wrap my head around it. In my head, pregnancy equals weight gain, not loss.  I'm thinking it has more to do with the fact that in addition to the pellets and a strict list of acceptable foods, they can only have 500 calories a day.  Anyone would loose weight eating that little.
Some teachers are taking a slightly different approach and merely trying to eat healthier and exercise.  The ones who live on compounds are able to join gyms, or exercise outside abaya free.  Those of us who live in the company provided housing would have to take a taxi to a private gym with really high membership fees, which is especially frustrating since there is an all-male gym only 2 blocks away.

I've been doing my part by cooking all my own meals and eating a lot of fresh fruit and vegetables.  I have also been doing a little yoga every morning.  Now that it is Ramadan, I've been eating even less by skipping lunch at work out of respect for those who are fasting.  Without classes to teach, work is pretty tedious.  I decided I should take advantage of my boredom and the enclosed campus walls to try to do some jogging sans abaya.

The first day I decided to go and wore tennis shoes to work instead of flip-flops, another teacher noticed and asked if we could run together.  I thought, sure, the more the merrier.  I'm much more likely to keep up a regular jogging schedule if I have someone to motivate me to go.  We went right away when we first arrived at work when the temperature was still in the low 90's to avoid the torturous heat of midday.  Now, since pants aren't allowed, we were still wearing skirts.  I had some long johns on underneath my skirt (for the air conditioning inside) and so I just hiked up my skirt enough to give my legs free range of motion.  We decided to do four laps around a kind of square group of buildings.  We did the first lap, and very quickly, she was far out ahead of me.  I managed to keep jogging, but let her take the lead.  On the second lap, she walked, but I kept up my slow and steady jog.  She ran the third lap, I kept up my slow jog, which was by then, quite a struggle.   On the forth lap, we walked together.  I was relieved.  I couldn't handle very much more.

We finished the last lap and then started to make our way in.  She suggested that we sprint the last little bit to the door.   I thought, sure, why not.  So we took off running full speed.  At first, I was ahead of her and I was feeling pretty proud of myself.  But of course, pride comes before a fall, and as I was thinking of what I would say to gloat when I reached the door first, my skirt came un-tucked and I tripped.  It was like those movies where everything happens in slow motion.  I was airborn and I stuck out my arms like I was diving for first base, then I hit the pavement and rolled.  I almost wish someone had gotten it on film because I think it was probably a pretty impressive piece of stunt work.  My jogging buddy ran past, turning her head just long enough to ask "are you okay" before she made a final push to arrive at the door ahead of me,
did a little celebratory win dance, and headed inside without another backward glance.  That's what I get for competing.

First Aid fix

I picked myself up and checked for injuries.  My legs seemed fine, although I could tell I would have a big bruise on my knee.  Then I checked my right arm, which had taken most of my weight in the fall.  I couldn't see all of it, but what I did see was a bloody mess.  I started walking back in and made my way to a bathroom.  I decided to try to wash my elbow, temporarily forgetting that the water here is salty.  I remembered quick enough when it touched my arm.  I don't mind admitting that at that moment, I definitely wanted my mommy.  Since she was about 6,387 miles away, I settled for the next best thing.  I asked the cleaning ladies.  They promptly produced a first aid kit and sat me down.  First they wiped the area with an alcohol pad which stung almost as much as the salt water.  Next they poured iodine on it, which stung so bad I started questioning my decision to go to them for help.  One of them, seeing the face I made, started rubbing my other arm reassuringly and saying something soothing in a language I don't understand.  Funny how that helps.  It really didn't hurt as much after that.  Then they took three gauze pads and put them on my arm and elbow.  Finally they taped me up and I was all set to return to work.

The problem is, you never think your elbow is all that important until you can't use it anymore.  I went to sit down at my computer and quickly realized that it hurt too much to rest my elbow on the desk while I typed.  I couldn't even rest it on the armrest of my chair.  Any pressure on it was too much pressure.  So I had to just sort of hold up my arm.  Even using a sling hurt.  I know. I tried to make one with my headscarf.  Unsuccessful.  I couldn't really do anything except sit around and talk, holding my elbow up.  Sadly, it didn't really effect my day that much since, without classes, we pretty much just sit around and talk anyway.

After the second clean up

When I got home, I took my bandages off.  Mostly because I didn't want the gauze to stick to the wound, but also to give it some air so it would hopefully scab over.  And because I must have some sort of death wish, I also cleaned it again with the salty water.  After I'd already suffered, it occurred to me that I could have used my bottled drinking water to rinse it.  I also forgot to think about was that I didn't have anything to put back on it, and since it was still oozing  and stuff, it made sleeping on white sheets a challenge.  It was hard to find a position I could lay in that didn't involve my elbow touching anything at all.  I spent the first hour or so just trying out different strategies.  I sat at the edge and hung my right arm over the side, but my arm started to fall asleep so I had to pull it back in.  I tried laying on my stomach with elbow up, but since I couldn't exactly straighten my arm all the way, that was a little uncomfortable. Finally I settled on throwing my right arm over my head, so that the back of my arm rested on my forehead and left my skinned elbow sunny side up.  It still tingled a bit and felt like it was burning, but at least I finally managed to get a few hours of sleep.

By morning it was more or less scabbed over.  Now it is also swollen, so that stretches the skin of the scab and makes it itch and feel tight.  At least I can bend and straighten it all the way again.  I think in another few weeks (if I can keep from picking the scab) it should be fine.  In the meantime, I've learned my lesson.  No more running in skirts.