Grand Adventure

It all started with a conversation at happy hour. A couple of glasses of wine, a little dreaming and before I knew it, I was researching a Rim to Rim hike of the Grand Canyon.

Yep, you read that right, THE GRAND CANYON.

Given my foot issues, the very prospect of this was daunting. Four hiking days; decending and ascending over 7200 feet; a 30lb pack on my back with everything I need to live for those precious, life altering, unwashed days and no way out if anything went wrong. EEK! I was scared. Soon though, the fear began to fade and an odd excitement took its place.

This was my chance. If I could make it through this, I could declare my foot, healed. A broken tendon does not withstand this sort of abuse without being, dare I say, somewhat fixed.

We booked the trip and started "training". Weekend hikes, endurance rides and some running. We even tried to slim down a little. Nothing could have prepared us for what we encountered and I could not have hoped for a more glorious ending.

As August rolled around, I started feeling antsy. Only 30 days until "THE" day. The day we'll don our packs and head out. I could feel my stomach do a couple of loops at the prospect. We were smart. We hired the Cadillac of adventure companies, Just Roughin It. So the logistics, equipment and food were covered. Now it was not just a matter of physical fitness.

The better half and I put the pedal to the metal for all of August and really upped the ante on our fitness program. Interval training, long rides in the blazing sun and weight specific training had us feeling good. We also did some test hikes with full packs to get a feel for how we'd do from a weight and balance perspective. In addition, I used the techniques in the foot book like a religion. Stretching, icing, stretching, massaging. Anything to make sure the flexibility of my tendons remained intact.

August 30. Our flight leaves for Phoenix. We are in the air for four plus hours and cross a couple of time zones. By the time we get to our hotel, it's 11p our time. We are tired but oddly hungry so we head out for a little food followed by some much needed rest.

August 31. We meet our driver in the lobby of the hotel at 4:30a! We didn't sleep well the night before for obvious reasons. We take our duffle bags and head for the van. We are excited, tired and a little nervous. Or at least I am.

We arrive at the trail four hours later. We'll begin our hike in the heat of the day. All of us are nervous. The group consists of my friend Laura, my better half's brother, the better half and me. We pick up a singleton, a lovely woman from Vancouver, BC named Lenora. She hasn't seen 90 degrees for most of her life. We sit in silence at the prospect of hiking in what might be 115 degrees!

We pick up our guide, The Steve. An awesome guy with a wicked sense of humor and superhuman strength (he carried all of his gear and all of our meals).  We are ready.

The hike begins with a descent into the Canyon. We will have descended just about 4000 feet when we reach the first camp site. It is hot when we start. The trail is narrow and treacherous.

 

 

By the time we reach the camp site, my feet feel numb. I am very anxious. I am not sure that I can go on and am almost certain that my feet will not be able to take this abuse and last. I put on my flip flops and try to move slowly around the camp site. I flex my feet and stretch them gently. I long for ice. I know the river is 50 degrees but it's dark and I can't find the river now without a significant effort. I eat my delicious dinner, massage my feet and head for the tent. REST. RECOVERY. Tomorrow is another day.

 

The next hiking day is a bit of a blur but somewhere outside of Phantom Ranch I felt my feet connect to the Earth. I have the sensation that after this hike, my feet will be healed. I feel an internal peace. I smile. I have this inherent knowledge that this is the type of immersion therapy my feet need and that I needed on so many levels. I let go and let it happen. I feel content and pick up the pace.

 

At Phantom Ranch my wishes come true! I find a wonderful little sliver of the Colorado River where I can "ice" my tired feet, a glass of wine (OK two) and the chance to splash into river in my shorts for a quick whole body cool down. I love it. I am in the moment.

 

The next hiking day is a blur. We arrive at Indian Gardens and camp. I realize that the next day will be the last and I feel sad. We hike to Plateau Point and see the most breathtaking views I've ever seen. I am entranced.

 

As we crest the South Rim on the very last day, I check my feet. Covered in moleskins for blisters but they are still structurally whole. They have survived and so have I. I did it! I feel tears rush to my eyes. 100 yards to go. When I get there, I will have done something that only 1% of the people who have visited this great, massive canyon will have ever done. I feel a sense of pride like I've never felt before in my life. I feel myself coming back into that bad ass body that I knew so many years before. The one that got me through four half iron races and three 6:34 miles off the bike in my first triathlon. That body. Those feet. They are back. I am grateful. I am thankful. I am ready for the next adventure.

 

I stare out at the Canyon for a long time before I bid it farewell. I will likely be back but the first dance is always special. Learning each other, supporting each other and allowing for the experience of both. It was the most amazing experience of my life. A healing transcendence to the next, most amazing me that I can be.

 

 

 

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.  

End of an Era

My house has been on the market for just about two weeks now. As I walk through each room, perfectly neat and neutralized it feels as if I am in someone else's house. Don't get me wrong, I like the colors just fine (in a Picasso's blue period sort of way) and they serve the very important purpose of helping me subtract my preferences and "self" from the environment. The softer colors and less offensive hues are also meant to attract a larger number of buyers. Here's hoping! After four months of back breaking work, it's nice to know that all of this DIY will be appreciated by someone.


I stood at the top of the stairs yesterday, where I've stood many times before, looking down on the foyer reflecting back to twelve years ago just after I moved in. The last box had been left in the appropriate room, the movers were gone and the house was silent. Light streamed in from the skylight and lit up the loft. I remember thinking, "This is mine. I can do whatever I want." Flash forward to yesterday, months of agonizing primer, paint, repeat; repairs and yard work later and I found myself thinking, "I hope the new owner loves living here as much as I have." I also thought, "It's the end of an era". 


This past year has seemed like the end of a couple of eras. I resisted this for a long time. I am not a person who is comfortable with change. It's not that I am stuck in my ways or don't want to evolve, it's just that I get used to things as they are. Like a lot of people I guess. Selling a house I've lived in for twelve years (my first house) and moving to a rental is truly the end of an era. I've had so many great times here, some heartache too but this house has been a witness to a decade of growth and regeneration. I started a business here, became a serious athlete here, fell in love with the man of my dreams here and sat many nights on my deck underneath the stars, sipping wine and just being grateful for being here. 


It's also the end of a running era. The end of trying to come back to an athlete that I will never be again. The end of striving to keep up with an old version of myself that no longer serves my new trajectory and what I want to have moving forward. I took myself off the racing circuit and am taking the time to let my injury heal, work on my mechanics and find other interests that will light me up as much as running fast used to. I look back on my athletic self of 2006 and marvel!  I am thankful I could experience that sort of success on the physical plane. I hope to run distance again but am fairly certain that it won't be at those same speeds. So another era ends but with that ending there is a new beginning. An opportunity to experience new things and grow in new ways. 


Getting better doesn't have to mean getting faster (though I am faster than I've ever been on the bike). It does have to mean that the experience is fulfilling no matter what. 


I am looking forward to renting, having the freedom to move if we need or want to, having a little more money to travel with or save. I am also looking forward to taking my time as I get back into the rhythm of running. No need to rush, push or try to chase the ghost of the runner I was. I get to take my time. Enjoy the process and be open to the possibilities. 


When I decided that the experience was more important than the things my life shifted. What seemed so valuable once, isn't really any more. End of an era. I think I'm OK with it. In fact, I think I can even welcome it. 

Gaining Momentum

My decision to drop off the racing circuit this year has been a good one. As soon as I decided not to race, I felt a weight lift from my shoulders. I cannot do anything half-assed. I never have been able to. So, declaring that I wouldn't race because I knew that I'd push myself past reasonable, healthy limits to compete is both humbling and self-aware.


Know thyself.


I also know this about myself. I am tenacious and willing to work hard for what I want. I am run 5.8 (when I used to breeze through at 7.5 or 8.0) miles per hour for two months, tenacious. Try every available shoe, sock and distance combination, tenacious. Slog through grueling strength and plyometrics training, tenacious. I have been doing the work to rehabilitate my ankle/foot and it seems that this investment is paying off - FINALLY.


On Saturday, a beautiful day in Annapolis, MD, I ran my "long" run. This was a one hour run on a course I call "Tour de Annapolis". It takes me over a bridge with a stunning view of City Dock, past the Naval Academy and back down a lonely stretch of Rowe Blvd until I make it back to town. It's a "nothing" course for me typically. Something I'd run on a week night just before it gets dark. But not having run outside in months or for more than 45 minutes at a time, this was a monumental run. 


I suited up. Orthotics, Balga socks, sunglasses and iPod. I felt nervous but excited. Once out, there was no other choice but to run back in. I couldn't stop the treadmill and just get off. I had to keep running or risk freezing in the wind. I set out. I turned the corner and headed up the hill. As I passed my gym, I looked at my watch - 7:45. The gym is a mile away from my house. SHIT. I need to slow down. Oddly, my cardiovascular fitness was great - all that break neck, crazy ass cycling at the bike store put me in a very good position. I slowed down. I told myself, you still have the better part of an hour to go. Take it easy. Keep your form. 


I made my way through town and eventually crested the arch of the bridge. I looked out over the      Bay and sighed. I could feel my legs beneath me and my heart ticking over the beats. I love this run. I love the view. I love being outside, I even love the wind in my face. I love everything about it. 


I monitored my foot - all systems go. I kept the pace and kept moving through downtown. I dodged people and dogs. I dodged strollers and people meandering between shops. I used to curse them but frankly, I was happy to be running outside. I didn't care. I headed for the lonely stretch. I could feel my ankle but everything seemed fine. Past the St. John's Boathouse and around the corner, I headed back to town. A stiff headwind met me on the way back but for once I relished it. 


1:07 later, I reached my front door. I stretched. I relaxed and basked in the glow of a run well done. No pain, no issues apart from a couple of blisters from new shoes. I was this day, a runner again. I may not have run my usual pace but I was out there RUNNING. 


I felt free. There was no race hanging over my head, no time to keep or workout to record. I ran just for fun. Just for the joy of it all and I loved it. I stretched a little more  before I went inside and got on with the rest of the day. I knew I'd be sore and achy the next day but I didn't care. I had the world's biggest smile on my face.


Blessings, no matter how small should always be counted. If you can run, that's a blessing. That run is one I will definitely count. 

The Recipe

In 2004, I started teaching myself to cook. Tired of eating turkey sandwiches and tortilla chips and in an attempt to fuel what was then a very steep ramp up to multiple distance triathlons and running races, I tried some new recipes. It's funny about recipes, even though they are exact in many cases, how you combine the ingredients and at what time is very pivotal to the texture and taste of the dish. Putting in spice too early or too late can make a dish bitter or bland. Not sifting the dry ingredients before combining them can mean grainy, odd tasting muffins. The same rules apply to recovering from an injury. The ingredients for healing don't necessarily combine for optimum success. It takes some experimentation. 

For the past couple of months, I have been in active recovery and rebuild mode. The boot has long since been stored on a shelf in the closet (where it will hopefully remain forever). I have been taking it easy. Dipping a toe into running, going very, very slowly and adding in some hiking to mix things up. I am not sure yet how this recipe will turn out but it seems like I have the right ingredients to get the dish right and get back on the path (literally) to healthy, pain free running. 

First and foremost was the diagnosis and then prognosis. While the former seemed dire, the latter seemed somewhat positive. Posterior tibial tendonitis is tricky. Mechanical deficiencies in the core, glutes and vastus medialis (that small quad muscle inside the knee) make it difficult to fix if you don't address the underlying problems. The prognosis, "wear your orthotics and you'll be able to run just fine." seemed somewhat encouraging until I actually tried it and felt that same nagging pain. So I've decided that a multi-faceted approach is best and this is how I've laid it out:

Strengthening the feet: The only shoes that do not bring nagging pain or discomfort seem to be the New Balance Minimus shoes that I bought just before my injury. I run on the treadmill absolutely barefoot for about 7 minutes and then put them on. I then finish up my run in those shoes. My feet are sometimes sore but in that "good sore" way that means progress and not break down. I've run in my orthotics several times and each time I felt that old familiar sensitivity and eventually pain that wasn't severe but enough to make me stop. I am a firm believer in building up and not making "lazy" when it comes to any muscle so I guess this is just proof positive that these inserts aren't coming to the rescue like I thought they might. 

So I've been experimenting with shoes. Running in my hiking boots - no pain. Running in a "higher heel profile" not bad but heavy and my feet aren't as nimble. Combining those shoes with the orthotics - painful! It's again, finding the right combination of ingredients. 

I stretch my feet, do sideways "crab" walks and do what I call the "ballerina" workout - flexing my feet, rolling up on my toes and standing on the balls of my feet for 10-15 seconds at a time. I will also do some plyometrics (jumping up on a small block) if I haven't done that in personal training sometime during the week. 

Personal training for flexibility and strength: Two times per week. I work with a personal trainer to strengthen my glutes, legs and core. We also do some plyometrics and stretching and he keeps close tabs on what works and doesn't in terms of my foot pain.

Sport specific training: Indoor trainer workout: High and low intensity. I do one very high intensity workout at the bike store that focuses on building leg strength and endurance. Then I do an easier, long workout on the weekends where I focus on really building my hip flexors and using an efficient pedal stroke. Strong hip flexors take the pounding off the feet and allow me to "lift" my leg up and put it down during the run stride instead of just "dropping" it and pounding. 

New to the recipe - Crossfit: Having heard so many testimonials about the benefits of Crossfit, I decided to join the Foundations class and see what it was all about. After the first couple of "real" workouts, I was hooked. If ever there was a class that focuses on your core and building a strong set of glutes and legs, this class is it. Plus, the intensity keeps your heart rate high and helps burn fat so for me a double dip! 

The Hike/Run: I took up hiking to realize a "bucket" list item of mine - hiking the Grand Canyon Rim to Rim to Rim. This is an arduous undertaking even for someone as fit as I am. With a foot that is not really dependable, "practicing" hiking is essential.My tri coach says, "Nothing builds run fitness like running." I am applying that same theory to hiking.  From a cardiovascular perspective, I don't foresee any issues. I do foresee getting my body used to making steep ascents and keeping my back loose. I've been combining these strenuous hikes with very SLOW running. I don't run faster than 5.8 mph at this point. 

The result? Well, the soup is still simmering on the running front but I am more fit than I've been in many years (and a couple pounds lighter). I am stronger, I have actual muscles now and am able to work parts of my legs and glutes that I've neglected for years. My foot tends to be sore on some occasions after a run and not on others. I haven't been able to pinpoint exactly what causes the soreness apart from my experimental footwear. It seems rather random. But there is no swelling and the tendon is not "hot". 

I ice and stretch more than I've done before. I also RECOVER more. If I am exhausted, I rest. This is new for me. I am used to pushing myself on no matter what. My foot will not tolerate that now so I have to be more mindful of when I need to rest. 

Perhaps my "recipe" all along has had too much of one ingredient and I've somehow made that strength a weakness (like too much pepper in the chili). I have not run more than 45 minutes in months and though I miss those long contemplative runs, I do not miss "training". In fact, I am not racing at all this year - on purpose. I have not signed up for a race and I don't intend to. I intend to have fun and see where having fun and trying a new recipe takes me. 

Will I ever be back to those two hour runs? I don't know. I hope so. But I hope to take them in a new direction like trail running. Like the hike/run. Maybe I'll just hike instead of run, who knows. But what is becoming clear to me is that this new recipe has more flavor, depth and complexity than it ever has before and the joy that is going into making it has a special flavor all its own. It makes me happy to be alive and grateful that I can give it all I have and do it again the next week.

Until my second round with this tendon injury, I took for granted how important having a completely healthy body really is. For those with chronic pain, knee, back or other debilitating injuries, I now know your pain in some small sense. You never know what you will get. I have good "foot" days and not so good foot days but I am thankful that I can still do 90% of the activities I love. Everything is a blessing if you are willing to see it that way.

So for now, the soup simmers and the jury is still out but the recipe already has a delicious aroma that is equal parts variety, complexity and sheer joy. 

If the shoe fits.....

I've been in physical therapy for two weeks now and it's been tough. There has been sweat inducing pain, discussions about stability and at least  three "shoe" tests.

First, the numbers. Apparently the posterior tendon has a flex range of about 8% over and above what is typical. My tendon was rotating about 14% given my defunct heels (genetic shape and slant that I can do nothing about) and the partial droop of my arch. My physical therapist said she'd never seen that much "play" and was really surprised that I hadn't experienced a rupture. Me too given those stats.

Though I can do nothing about my genetics, there is much I can do to improve my flexibility, give my feet more support and in general create better foot mechanics. One way to do this is with custom orthotics. The process started with these paper mache looking strips that were wrapped around my feet. They hardened pretty quickly and immediately I was able to see the nature of my deficiency. One of the casts actually ROCKED back and forth a considerable amount. Sigh. This is what my foot is doing thousands of times per hour every time I run. No wonder my tendons are pissed off! The outcome of this exercise is to create a piece of plastic that will compensate for these deficiencies. The photo negative of the rocking cast. Seems like we'd have better technology this day and age. Something space age that could be inserted just under the skin and magically balance both feet. But alas, no. The human body is complicated.

The next step was to do a stability test pre-orthotics in all of my favorite running shoes. First up, the shoes I thought for sure would pass - the natural running, forefront gliding Newton's. NO SUCH LUCK. In fact, for my particular feet, the Newton's were the absolute worst possible shoe. According to my physical therapist, these shoes are where all of the trouble likely began.

In my particular case, the Newton's cause my feet to roll around even more than they do already! Plus, they are too wide. Newton does not make a narrow shoe - trust me I've complained. Unfortunately, I have very narrow feet! For a $175 running shoe, you should be able to have a narrow shoe in a decent color, that comes complete with matching socks, a cape and a super hero decal, but I digress. So the combination of the pitch of my body and feet forward, the resultant stress on the posterior tendon combined with the lack of stability, wobble and low profile heel, made the Newton's a disaster for my poor feet! Sad in some ways, but not really. These shoes are incredibly expensive and if I can fare better in less expensive kicks then I'm in!

Next up, the New Balance Miniumus series. The physical therapist tested me in the trail and regular running versions. The winner? The trail or most minimal version of that shoe was the absolute, most stable. The non-trail version was not far behind and she thinks once I get the orthotics, they should be ok too. A surprise of a different sort were the Brooks stability running shoes. I ran a marathon in shoes like these. The verdict? No go. They were almost as unstable as the Newton's. Crazy what you can learn in physical therapy.

The next card in this house of tendons was my back and core stability. Apparently I am unstable in general terms and not just in my running shoes. My core stabilizing muscles have apparently been on holiday and haven't returned. To draw them back and "wake them up" I have homework: Lie on the floor on my back with my thighs perpendicular to the floor. I have to push my thigh slightly forward creating a litte bit of resistence. First on one leg and then the other and finally with both. Hands flat on thighs, light resistance, don't shake. Check! This is supposed to help my back as well. A back, by the way, that I thought was in pretty good shape. No so much but that's a topic for another blog.

As far as the posterior tendon goes, I am almost ready to run again (with the orthotics, of course). In the meantime and ongoing there is "homework":

Wall Stretches: Stand with toes about 1-3 inches from the wall (knee/foot flexion dependent). Keep a neutral position and drop the knee forward to touch the wall. The stretch is felt in the heel and calf. Really, really felt!

Arch Lifts: Standing, roll feet upward toward the ceiling so the arches are as parallel to the floor as possible. Do this 20 times. Minimal roll to the outside of the foot or lightly supinated. Don't roll up onto the ball of the feet.

Arch Lifts part deux: Standing lift calves and heels up and roll onto the balls of the feet. Not like a standard calf raise where the calves do the heavy lifting but more like a supination of the feet with a finish on the balls of the feet.

I've learned in physical therapy that the posterior tendon is both delicate and tough. It is the central theme in the foot and lower leg and any irritation or weakness will severely disrupt your ability to walk let alone run. Looking back over my years of running and running shoes, I never really encountered so severe an issue until I started using more high tech shoes. Nothing against Newton, I think they have a fine concept for a lot of people but for those of us who are mechanically deficient, their shoes may be a disasterous choice. The devil is in the details as they say.

For me, it's back to basics. I will give the natural New Balance shoes a try and see what happens. At least I know they are stable and won't likely exacerbate my existing injury. I may need to size up to be able to accommodate the orthotic but that's ok. What I want more than anything is to run again pain free. I am willing to do whatever it takes to make that happen.

Homework, sure. New shoes, fine. Until you can't walk or run without pain, you don't realize how much you take your basic mobility for granted and what you are willing to do to get it back. I want to hike the Grand Canyon Rim to Rim to Rim. I want to hike, period and be able to walk three miles for dinner. I want to be able to run more than fifty steps before my ankle hurts. I want to be mindful now that being able to do any of this without pain and effort is a blessing and not a right. Thank heavens for physical therapists and their dedication to making us all more mechanically correct. But the real effort lies in maintaining that investment throughout the journey.

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.