Interrupted

The weekend before Thanksgiving I broke my foot.  It was stupid and I should not have been so careless but I was.  I fell on a friend’s bathroom floor in the middle of the night.  I landed so hard I fractured my second tarsal in two places and chipped a small bone under the ball of my foot.  I didn’t even think I hurt anything other than my ass, which I bounced off of, when I went back to bed. 

Even though I could barely put any weight on it then next morning, I still managed to enjoy my weekend and truck my ass all over Heinz Field for a Steelers game that Sunday.  I was not going to miss a live game because my foot hurt.  Then of course I drove the three hours home right after the game.  I certainly am paying the price for my stubbornness. Although I had it wrapped in an ace bandage, I should have stayed off of it.   

When I woke up Monday morning it was a bruised ball of flesh.  It looked awful.  I broke down and went to a local urgent care center to have x-rays done.  They confirmed the breaks and wanted to put me on crutches.  To which I responded, “Um, no.  I have to walk so give me a plan B”.  They offered me a walking boot, which I didn’t love but was a much better alternate to crutches.  I could walk freely on the boot and it absorbed shock so I could put weight on my foot to be mobile.  Of course it was my right foot so driving home was a feat.  Haha, a feat, get it?  Anyhow I as given a referral to an orthopedic doc and prayed that I was going to heal without any other issues. 

The ortho told me I needed to wear the boot for three more weeks (I had been wearing it about a week when he saw me), then I could wean off it slowly.  Which I did.  I had to go back in four weeks for follow up x-rays.  Which I did.  On my follow up visit he told me that I was ok to walk and drive ONLY. No exercise, no running, and no strain other than normal movement until I had SEVEN COMPLETELY PAIN FREE DAYS.  He said it should take another month or so to get to that point, so I was looking at end of January beginning of February.  I was relieved.

Being the impatient fuck that I am, two weeks ago my foot was feeling pretty good.  I had four really normal days.  Four not seven.  Yes, you know its coming.  I decided to hit the gym and try a little light cardio.  I had begun doing some upper body weight training a week earlier because I was going stir crazy without any exercise whatsoever.  I went about five weeks or so doing nothing and it was really getting to me. 

There is this wonderful machine that I have come to love at the gym.  It’s the Helix 3000.  It’s an elliptical type machine but pedals in a large circular motion from side to side rather than front to back.  I swear I can feel my hips and ass shrinking every time I am on it!  I love it.  It’s was a bit awkward at first, and a lot of people at the gym won’t get on it because either they think they look funny (which I am sure I do but I could care less), or they are afraid they lack the coordination to make a go of it.   My foot felt great and the Helix was calling me.  So I jumped on and told myself I’d give it five minutes.

Five minutes was all I could bear.  By minute three my foot began to tweak with a slight ache.  I pushed through the last two minutes to just get a warm up in.  When I stepped off the ball of my foot was throbbing, as was the top.  I figured I wasn’t ready and then went on to do my upper body workout.  I was limping by the time I left. 

So I figure that little stunt on the Helix put my recovery back about two weeks.  I feel pretty ok now but I am still not 100% in the foot.  I have soreness and every so often I move and it hurts, so I have to wait.

This is the first time since my recovery that I have been injured or hindered in any way physically.  And I clearly hate it.  The routine I have become accustomed to is not what I am able to do at the moment and its bothering the hell out of me.  I miss running. I desperately miss yoga.  And I miss my Helix 3000.  I am still doing weights and meditating to get through my mental anguish about being stifled but it’s not the same as balls to the wall running. Or stretching my body into a yoga pose that requires all my strength and fortitude.  But I remind myself to be thankful for what I CAN do and shut the fuck up about the rest.

The other thing that I am unable to do is wear heels.  High-heeled shoes.  How I miss my shoes!  I am relinquished to flat, sensible shoes for work and any other daily activity.  When I am home I am in bare feet as always, but man I love shoes.  Anyone who has met me knows this.  Luckily I have a very comfy, stylish, and, yes flat, pair of Coach fuzzy boots I bought myself for Christmas.  They are black (as is 85% of what I own) and have become my staple for work.  If it were warmer I’d have a slightly better selection of footwear for work that were “flat” but with winter not so much.

As is everything with me these days, dealing with this injury is a learning experience.  I am reminding myself constantly that this is a temporary injury and it could be much worse. I remind myself that almost three years ago at this time I was getting to ready to experience trauma I could never have imagined. So a broken foot isn’t such a big deal in the grand scheme of things. 

So I am impatiently waiting for the day to go for a run then put on a pair of four-inch heels for work.