Wear and Tear

Earlier this year, my Pajero had a blowout. It was on the main strip in Dubai during rush hour. Sheikh Zayed Road.

Stars in alignment, I am in the right lane and there's actually a shoulder. Pajero rolls to a stop and rests adjacent to a Metro stop.

And further luck reveals that the blown tire is on the passenger side. No leaning out into scary oncoming traffic while getting out the spare.

And then amazing luck follows. The night shift manager of a car shop that specializes in tires walks up to the car.

Seriously.

Could this happen anywhere else?

He's Indian, lived in Dubai 13 years. His English is, of course, perfect. He tells me to stop with the jack, he's got a better one. A cell call and 6 minutes later, a truck rolls over the median.

Suffice to say there are four new tires, perfectly balanced and installed on Pajero whose raring to come home the next morning. And even though my new friend called his shop from the road and had another worker drive over, put on the spare and drive Pajero to the shop; the price is simply the four tires, no labor.

Oh yeah, he gave me 10% off the price he showed me on the computer inventory. I convert the price to dollars and look up the same tires in the US on the net. Same price. Cool.

And I asked myself at the time: how amazingly easy is it to be an expat in Dubai?

The cause of the blowout was determined to be wear and tear that had finally worn down the tire. The heat here can be harsh and tires have their limits.

So I sit here now thinking about wear and tear. And my own blowout.

32 days ago in mid run (ironically coming from my last sports therapy session on my injured shoulder) I had a blowout on the overpass pedestrian sidewalk.

I was just cresting the bridge, one or two steps into the long down hill glide. My favorite part of the run. One kilometer from my door, over Sheikh Zayed Road with only downhill and flat to bring me home.

Mid-song, side-step
crack,

That feels weird, what
ow, stop.

Limping, hopping, hobbling

(Berman in my head:
"Fumbling, bumbling, stumbling...")

I pull up lame against the bridge wall
as the Metro rumbles
under me,
cars flying by in both
directions.

And I asked myself at the time: how bad is this?

The cause of the blowout was determined to be wear and tear that had finally worn down the meniscus. The runs can push the shock absorbers and knees have their limits.

No night shift supervisor. No ride home.

MRI

Consultation.

And now I prepare.