March was pretty awful. Ok, some really good things happened. We had a fabulous family weekend in NYC.
It was *freezing* but we had amazing hot chocolate at Jacque Torres!
The kids got to see their first Broadway show and loved it!
I was able to travel to Michigan to be with my mom after she had knee surgery. She’s a PT champion, just like me!
I didn’t punch anyone. Always a plus.
But on the running front, let’s just say – no one should be allowed to read my training log from March, especially no medical professionals of the psychiatric variety. Anyone who opposes curse words had better steer clear as well.
About the only good thing to come from the horror show of March is that I started to cast a much wider net in terms of getting some help with what I had assumed for months was plantar fasciitis. I really don’t want to count medical appointments, miles on the bike, distance in the pool, or anything else for March. There was a lot of all of that. I went for my last run on March 13th. Despite Snarky Girl’s excellent company, I knew something wasn’t right and it was time to stop running.
By late March I had finally had an MRI. On April 3, I was diagnosed with a partial tear of the plantar fascia and I acquired the lovely boot. Yes, a tear. Not regular run-of-the-mill plantar fasciitis. I somehow managed to rip that thing, at least partially. That explains why this is taking so long to heal.
Obi Wan likes this thing a lot more than I do.
I’ve been able to bike and swim without the boot. Also shower and sleep, thank goodness. Tough Guy Trainer didn’t call his gym Innovative Fitness and Wellness for nothing and he’s figured out how to work around it. Otherwise, I was full time in my beautiful accessory for four weeks. Last week I could take it off while in the house. This week I am only wearing it for more “strenuous” activities like lecturing or walking from my car to my office. Next week, if all goes well, it comes off for good. I’m in negotiations with the podiatrist about what kind of imaging we will do and when to see if the tear is really better. Some custom orthotics and a gait analysis are also in my future.
I’m pretty confident about who will emerge triumphant from the podiatrist negotiations. I am way, way more annoying than she is, and I have great insurance. The much bigger battle on the horizon is the internal one with my too big, too loud, very nervous brain. Big smiles for the camera aside, the You Vs. You showdown has apparently already started.
