Last October, I began noticing pain on the outer edge of my
right foot during and after my runs. At
the time, I was running in Vibrams (those toe shoes)
because I like to show off that I don’t have webbed toes. Not really.
They just truly helped with my IT issues and knee pain. I figured my new foot discomfort was due to
the lack of support in my ankle, so I switched back to my regular running
shoes, which helped at first…until it didn’t.
A doctor diagnosed tendonitis, so to let it heal, I gave up running for
three months (but not Ultimate Frisbee, ‘cause I’m brilliant like that). Long story short: I didn’t have tendonitis; I
had torn my peroneus brevis tendon right below my anklebone and needed surgery.
I was told that after surgery I’d be in a walking boot for
two weeks, after which, I’d be able to walk in a normal shoe, and then be back
to running again in an additional four weeks.
Six weeks out would still keep me right on schedule for the beginning of
my marathon training in April, so I went for it. The reality was that I was in that damn boot
for three full weeks, and then intermittently for an additional two weeks so I
could build up hours of normal shoe wear vs. the boot. And by “normal shoe,” I’m talking about
supportive running shoes; not my beloved flat-soled Chucks. I wasn’t cleared to run until eight weeks
post surgery, and was told that Ultimate Frisbee was “the worst possible thing
I could be doing to my foot” and I would need to ease myself back in, as
tolerance would allow. (I'm still easing.)
Elevating my foot and being confined to a couch all day
every day was torture! I was forced to
depend on people for every little thing.
I’m one of those independent types who gets off my ass to grab the remote
sitting next to you just because I see no reason to make you get up and hand it
to me when I’m perfectly capable of getting it myself. So yes, Greg bringing me something to drink,
or grabbing my Kindle from the bedroom, was torture, and a constant battle
between us. Being gimpy and in pain, I
usually lost.
At one point in my recovery, when I was still wearing the boot
and using crutches, my pain had substantially subsided, so it was deemed
okay to leave me home alone for the entire day.
When it came time for lunch, I was thrilled to be up at the stove
heating up my soup and pouring my own juice.
However, once prepared, I suddenly realized that I needed to get the
bowl of hot soup from the counter to the folding tray near the couch where I
was stationed, and there was no way I could hold both my crutches and the heavy
bowl at the same time while walking. But
I’m a problem solver. I dropped
carefully to my knees and placed the soup and juice on the ground. Then slowly and carefully, I pushed the bowl
and cup a few inches ahead of me, crawled forward on my hands and knees
dragging my 20lb boot-foot behind me, and then pushed the dishes ahead of me
again. I tediously worked my way back to
the couch in that manner. I continued
this ritual in secret for a few days until it was finally bearable to place
some weight down on my boot clad foot; thus, making me able to walk a few steps sans
crutches.
I was able to ditch the boot altogether after about six
weeks, and continued exclusively wearing running shoes for an additional five
weeks. While I’m not a hundred percent
better, and my marathon training is officially a wash, I’m at least glad that
I’m finally back in flip flops and can carry my lunch easily to wherever I want
it! It’s the little things that I missed
the most.
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My boot would wait for me outside the bathroom door while I showered. Now it waits for me in my storage unit. |