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.
|My boot would wait for me outside the bathroom door while I showered.|
Now it waits for me in my storage unit.