A couple of weeks ago, my physical therapist pronounced me to be, if not healed, at least something approaching healed. She said to try to run a little and that we didn’t need to book any more sessions unless my foot started to hurt again. You can all see where this is heading, but let’s pretend for a few glorious seconds that my foot is actually on the mend.
I waited a few days and then decided it was time. I pulled on my favorite jogging tights, my “Born to Run” shirt and cranked the Glee version of Don’t Stop Believing. Full of all the things I was going to say about this glorious foray back into jogging, I practically floated out the door.
By now, you must surely know where this is heading…
Don’t count your chickens before they’re hatched.
Don’t mentally write a blog entry about something that hasn’t happened yet.
Don’t keep running when your foot hurts like that.
At the very least, I’ve learned my lesson about running through pain. At least enough to stop when it was apparent that even Don’t Stop Believing wasn’t going to get me through this one. I limped the half block back home, strapped an ice pack to my foot, curled up on the couch and then proceeded to whimper piteously until Kristian took pity on me and made dinner.
Long story short: I’m back in PT, my foot is inflamed, we’re not even going to talk about running until my foot is completely pain free. Oh, and my PT benefits run out at the end of the month. God bless the American medical system.
Seriously.
We could use all the help we can get.
I asked what happens if my foot doesn’t start improving. She threatened me with the boot. If I don’t start healing soon, they’re going to make me wear it 23.5/7 (a girl’s gotta shower sometime). For a month. Which is when I looked down at my feet and threatened to never get another pedicure again in my life if they don’t start behaving.
I’m trying to see a positive side in all of this or at least a sign that things are going to get better and soon. Because, right now, I’m tempted to eat my weight in chocolate ice-cream and/or blow an entire week’s paycheck on new clothes (but no new shoes!). What I’ve decided is this: As long as I keep doing what my Physical Therapist tells me to do, my foot can only get better. That, in the grand scheme of things, foot pain is really not all that big of a deal. And that if ever there was a motivation for losing that last 10-15 pounds, getting weight off of my feet is a damn good one.
That and I just might eat an entire box of chocolate pudding for dinner.
With whipped cream.
And chocolate chips.
Yes, that conflicts with my plan to lose weight to make my foot feel better.
Moping on the couch gets me off of my feet!
Yeah.
Oh, I’m sorry! Adam tore his left calf muscle, and was given a boot, which he hasn’t been wearing like he should.
Awww, sorry Hoper. Rest up and do the work. You’ll be pain free soon. (Soon being relative.)
Kristina – a torn calf muscle sounds ridiculously painful! I can understand why Adam wouldn’t wear the boot as much as he should. They’re super uncomfortable and tend to make other parts of your body hurt. Plus, you have to take them off to drive. I hope he feels better soon!
Oh how awful! The worst thing about injuries is being on the mend but not quite fully healed. Your mind is thinking, “we are almost better and we can do this and this and this now” but your body decided (often a minute or two late) “no you can’t!”
I’m definitely keeping you in my prayers and hoping that these next sessions with the trainer help you to see major improvements!
But there’s nothing wrong with a little chocolate pudding – healed or not healed ^_^