Happier Feet

I am reading a book called, "Every Woman's Guide to Foot Pain Relief. The New Science of Healthy Feet." by a Katy Bowman a physical therapist and apparently a very smart and practical woman.


Things I've learned about my feet:

• They should be more like fingers. Mine are more like bricks
• Foot alignment is important - especially if you tend to "kick" one foot out more than the other
• You need to strengthen your feet
• Flip flops are the devil

There are even exercises to "train" your feet so they are healthy and more functional. So giving it a go, I tried a few. My conclusion? I have the couch potato equivalent of feet - no wonder they get injured. My remedy? What I always do - get 'er done!


I started with walking correctly. Believe it or not this means pointing my feet straight ahead and standing up straight. This is very hard if you have not been doing it. Minute changes to pelvic position and foot alignment left me SORE. Like" ran a few miles", sore. Seriously. Who knew? But it does explain a lot. I have decided to delve deeper into this foot book and try a few other things.


But the net of all of it is, my feet seem .... happier! I have been able to run (albeit it painfully slowly) every other day for an hour. This is no small feat (pun totally intended)! I really had to work up to it.


Posterior Tibial Tendonitis has left me with one lasting truth. I will always be injured, it's just a matter of degree. Getting "better" means running without lasting pain. This is about all I can hope for now. It's ok. I have no races planned and I may never actually race hard again. But being able to run, truly RUN and lose myself in the luxurious nothingness of it cannot be beat. I relish the time and am happy to be out on the road. 


I am now a religious wearer of the orthotics. I have grown to love them despite my aversion to anything that "helps" the feet. They do help. They help me to stay aligned properly, particularly when I get tired and my form suffers. They help keep me solid and keep my feet from traveling. SO they are a staple now despite it all. 


I have a goal to run 13.1 miles by the fall. I'd love to run a fall half marathon. My personal trainer is on the case. He is on board with the plan and frankly, it will be nice to have a goal again. Not that I am not enjoying just doing "stuff". 


At any rate, the feet are happier and so am I. I ice, stretch, ice, stretch and ice again..... but alas, I am making more progress every day. That's a good thing! Count the blessings, no matter how small. Progress is progress even if it's running one minute more than I did last time. 


Slow and steady wins the ultimate race. I'm OK with that.  

Good Mourning?

This past weekend I got to see a really good friend of mine that I don't get to see often. We met for coffee and chatted about life. She marveled at the boot and the fact that this is round two. We both talked about what the Universe might be trying to get across, what I could learn from all of this and the precise date when the boot would come off. 

"You can still bike, right?" she asks. "Yeah but I haven't done much of that either." I  sort of mumbled. She smiled and said, "Yeah, you have to grieve the loss of running first. Then you'll figure out that there is more to life that dashing through the streets on two feet." And as she said this I could feel her words resonate somewhere deep within me. She was right. 


Since the boot went on, I've been largely uninspired to do much training at all. Typically, I'd bike 2-3 times per week with at least one of those rides being a hard tempo ride and the other specific to pedal stroke training. I have sort of shrugged them both off for the past couple of weeks. I do ride on the weekends now but only one day and half the time I used to. I had been marveling at my lackluster attitude and almost non-existent motivation to ride until I heard her utter those words. 


Running is such a part of me that I am indeed grieving at the loss of it in my life. It is the stick by which I measure my athleticism. I am a runner first, I always have been. Running has delivered me from some of the worst moments of my life and delivered into some of the best. Running is moving meditation, a chance to compete and a way to push myself to the edge physically. Running is the metaphor for my life and I miss having that means of expression.


Today was the most perfect running day!  I shuffled to the mailbox dragging the boot behind and sighed. By the time I am "healed", it will be spring. Summer running is not my thing - especially fat which I have a good chance of being given the weeks ahead. All this Fall running will slip right past and leave me with another season of wondering what might have been.


I think for the first time in my life, I am actually sort of depressed. Maybe because for once in my life it seems like my running life could well come to a close. That is something that is very painful for me. If I have to give up running, I will have to give up such a big part of who I think I am.


 I have been lucky enough in my life not to have had to mourn much. Mourning is useful. It gives our pain a voice, our loss a purpose. It allows us the opportunity to reflect and determine how we will move forward, adapt and become stronger in the broken places. Despite whatever becomes of my running life, I will never be the same runner I was before I got injured. I wasn't the same runner after the last injury. I will always be different. I will have to adapt. If I can't run, I will have to determine what's next. 


But I am new to mourning so I am not sure how it works. Should I be going through all the traditional  "grieving" steps? Or will I just sort of feel unmotivated and uninterested for awhile? I am trying to give whatever this is the proper air time. My usual way is to just fix it and move on. Make it better and be off to the next thing. This time I just don't have the energy to do that. I suppose the teacher appears when the student is ready. I'll try to be open to the possibilities. 


Nothing is confirmed. There is no unfortunate prognosis.  I keep wearing the boot like some sort of storm trooper religion and awaiting that miraculous day in physical therapy when I can be pronounced mechanically sufficient. 


Looking on the bright side, the swelling is gone, I can flex my foot to the inside a little bit more than I could before. The pain is also largely gone though the stiffness is still there.


I had a dream a couple of nights ago that I was running barefoot with no pain. I wonder if it's a prophetic dream or if it's just my psyche's way of expressing its longing. Life is about defining and refining. I suppose that's the lesson in this. For now, I am still a runner. An injured runner but a runner until all avenues are exhausted.