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Everything you need to know about running and life and any other random crap I find bouncing through my mind like a ping pong ball. And always be sure your shoes are happy.

Archive for the tag “stress fracture”

Little Merry Sunshine Part 2

There actually is a blog titled  Little Merry Sunshine  and it’s much cheerier than my Merry Sunshine. If you’re in the same mood as I am this morning you need to head over there right now and read it for about fourteen hours.

It’s fine, I’ll wait.  I have coffee.

Ok, are you done?  Do you feel better?

I don’t.  As you both know, my brain is broken.  I keep trying to fix it, I really do, and I won’t give up.  There are simply times it’s harder to keep trying.

The blogger above (I do think she must be a very nice person) was apparently such a happy child she even smiled when she slept.

I, on the other hand, was the (not) sleeping child who, when I could not stand it a moment longer and my bladder was about to burst, stood on the bed, leapt to the doorway, ran to the bathroom, speed peed and dashed back to the bedroom doorway to leap back onto the bed.

I did this so the man who lived under my bed could not grab my leg and pull me under the bed.

It was never clear what would happen after that, life would end or I’d live forever in a black hole, I’m unsure.  All I knew was I would be sucked into a dark and never-ending vortex.

Lately it’s been dark endless days that morph into darker nights as we shiver through the effects of psycho polar vortexes, grey cloudy cold days of endless rain pouring down from dark endless clouds.  The fun of hunkering down, making soup, reading in the comfy chair, knitting while watching TV in the evening has waned to microscopic.

What happens if someone scares you?  Maybe you think you’re alone in the house, knitting endless scarves watching the news and waiting to make dinner, but actually hubs is home from work and you didn’t hear him come in (Early Warning System is asleep on the couch).  He walks into the room to say hi and you jump out of the chair, heart pounding.  What’s the first thing that happens?  Do you feel angry?

I do.  I get pissed because I got scared.

And there you have it.

The whirling vortex of Brain has settled on the OH SHIT button and keeps stomping.  Well sh*t.  When is the last time we ran and it didn’t hurt?  That would be … Brain counts on its fingers … 19 months ago, yeppers.  JeZUS in your little hay filled CRIB, shut UP Brain!

Making the bed, little twinges, ouch, step, ouch, step.  Why is my foot still sore?  Is it another stress reaction?  There is my running gear, laid out three days ago.  Still folded, still on the chair.  Maybe I’ll run later this morning.  I should take my phone in case there is something wrong.  He said it would be easier to break another bone for a while.  I could call Becky if something happened.  Maybe I should go to the Center and run on the treadmill instead.  Maybe I’ll do that.  Later. Like, next Juvember.

I, however, am holding an ace:  I have BRFF’s who pop up on messages telling me to drag my whiny ass over to their house at 8:15 and they don’t want to hear the ‘feel like’ temp, put on some woolies and gloves, get your butt here and we’re going for a run.

YAY! We’re going for  RUN!

ramona quimby

“I am too a Merry Sunshine,” insisted Ramona (and she) got down from the table and ran …

Addendum
Furthest I’ve run since 11.9.13
A little slow.  Took a couple walk breaks.  Waited on a couple red lights.
Cold and breezy.  After a while I couldn’t feel my quads.
It was perfect.

IMG_0100

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Zooming through my Zoo

5:05am and wide awake again.  I think I may start trying to do the elliptical.  I hate to drive to the center just to ellipticize for 20-30 minutes but I’m going to have to do something to use up some energy and calories so I can quit waking so early with nothing to do.  The exploding head would probably blow off some energy but it’s so much messier.

exploding-head-zone

You know, it’s fairly easy to find an argument on Google for whatever you wish to find permission to do, so I did use the elliptical at Killer’s on Friday for 20 minutes.  I actually did it for about 10 minutes, with a rest every other minute because I have, indeed, lost that much fitness in five weeks and had to stop and breathe every other minute.  We will not dwell on that.  I balanced on my heel with no pressure on the forefoot and it didn’t hurt.  I haven’t tried again; I don’t want to screw anything up even though, as I said, it didn’t hurt – I’ve been burned by the Injury Fairy so many times in the past 15 months that right now I’m gun shy.  However, from what I could find on The Great Oracle Google, it’s OK to do the elliptical if I’m stabilized in the boot.  Now I shall consult the other two Great Oracles, you, my two faithful followers of my world-famous blog.  Should I do the elliptical or not?

Remember, the safety of my family, the animals and my foot lie in your hands.  No pressure.

Meanwhile back at the Zoo, waiting for the Shrine to heat up, I let Murphy out.  Hubs said, don’t forget Murphy.  I said, it’s 5:15 in the morning and it’s cold and rainy, he won’t last five minutes out there before he’s scratching on the door.  On the way out to the gym hub’s final words:  just don’t forget Murphy.

So, of course, I did and now he is not in the yard.  dammit.  It’s 35 degrees and raining lightly and I’m out on the deck in the darkness (I tell you, I hear shuffling.  Do snakes shuffle?  Maybe it’s a fox.  Rabid racoon?  I know it’s not Murphy because his collar jingles.) yelling softly (and how stupid is that?  can you even yell + softly?  Isn’t that just talking?)  MURPHY MURPHY but no response.  I’ve had no coffee.  I really really do not want to go down the steps of the deck and hobble around the yard in the dark, in my sock feet sans boot, stepping on razor sharp edges of hickory nut shells which the squirrels constantly drop from the tress, littering the path.  I go to the kitchen door and stand in the carport MURPHY!  MURPHY! and the damn cat scoots out the door and under the car.

I do not have my boot on and I’ve had no coffee.  I’d intended to get a cup of coffee and then get ready for the day.  Now I don’t have time to get my boot on because if the damn cat gets under the deck the story is over and I’ll be crawling in rainy drizzly cold wetness in the dark where snakes might live and that’s going to happen exactly:  never.  I try to peer under the car to see if I can grab her, but I can’t see anything.  Oh, wait, it’s FIVE EFFING O-DARK-THIRTY IN THE MORNING and it’s pitch black outside in the dark rainy morning in which I’ve had no coffee.  Plus I can’t bend all the way over because then my forefoot bends *ouch* so I’m kind of hunched like some crabby old cat lady whispering dammit Chunk!  I hobble back into the house and grab the broom, meanwhile trying to intimidate Mo enough that he won’t go near the open door, which is open in the useless hope the damn cat will run from under the car back in through the open door and into the house.  Plus, intimidating Mo is like candy from a baby, there’s no need and it’s mean so now I feel bad.

I swipe the broom under the car and she scoots out … and directly around the corner to the front porch which is freeking dark as night because it IS night.  I hobble after her in my sock feet on the pebbly surface of the carport *ouch* *ouch* *ouch*.  I can’t see her on the black hole of a porch so I hobble back into the house and around to the front door and turn on the porch light.  Scurrying like a crab I return to see the damn. cat. scoot back under the damn car.  

!@!#$!!!   &^%$!!  *&(*&&^!!!!  and  @#$%!!! I mutter as I sling the broom under the car, swiping wildly.  Where is the damn cat??

Oh, I see.  There she is, so cute and fluffy, sitting in the kitchen doorway watching me attack nothing under the car.

“Whatcha doing, mom?”

Munker and baby

Look at that sweet innocent face, taking good care of her baby to show me how it should be done.

Then I drove  around the block twice trying to find the dog.  I gave up and went home only to find Murphy right there in front of our house, peeing on the neighbor’s bushes.  Tucked tail, ears down, he runs into the back yard and onto the deck.  OH, look, here I am!  Right where I should be!

I’m going to have to do something to use up some energy and calories so I can quit waking so early, forced to be responsible before I’ve had coffee.  The exploding head would probably blow off some energy but it’s so much messier.

explodinghead

What a difference a day makes. Or, part of a day. Or, part of a morning.

The Smackdown Wagon ran me over this morning after my happy, positive post.

sad kitten

This is proof to me that resolving to be positive and upbeat is stupid and sure to lead to disaster and disillusionment.  I’m pretty sure googling 50K training plans prior to my run this morning did nothing to divert the Bad Luck Fairy hovering over my head waiting to strike, with Fate winging it in the background just in case Bad Luck Fairy took a swing and missed.  Or just in case Fate is feeling particularly like a bitch right now and wanted to do some slapping when BLF got done with her hits.

foot

Pain Level 5 – There’s a little man in my 3rd metatarsal using a jackhammer and he has a friend helping him.

I guess my original thought – that my foot was swollen and sore from 7 hours in a pair of pumps (I KNEW I should just wear my Toms and ask the photogs to focus knees and above) – was, actually …

wrong

… and what I had talked myself out of for the past three days was not a serious case of negative thinking, hypochondria or making a big deal out of nothing but is, instead, a stress fracture of the 3rd metatarsal and apparently the little men in my foot with the jackhammer intend to hang around 6 – 8 weeks.  My run started out so well, too, basically pain free – you  cannot call an occasional piriformis ping “pain”.  It was a lovely morning, I felt strong and loose, having the best run I’ve had in weeks, maybe months.  Just lovely, centered, feeling strong, feeling lined up, feeling my feet hit the ground and spring back up.

At mile two the sore spot on the top of my foot started to feel like a sore spot at the top of my foot.  At 2.5 the sore spot started to feel like an extremely sore spot that wanted me to stop and sit down.  Being a mile from home that was not optional but foot did not care, and at 2.75 foot said screw you lady and started screaming. I limped 3/4 mile home which took about 25 minutes and hurt more with each step.  I called my favorite podiatrist and before noon I was in his office, strapped into a boot and being told I would be doing exactly NO.THING. until he sees me again in 2-1/2 weeks.

This means all the plans I recently made after I cancelled the other plans I’d previously made will now have to be cancelled.  I’m pretty sure I feel a little bit like crying but it also feels a lot like watching a train wreck in a movie.  You know it’s coming, you know they’re going to hit and all you can do is watch and wait, other than the fact that I can’t change the channel and of course you could if you were watching a movie.  Which I’m not.  I’m pretty sure I’m kinda pissed at fate right now but I’m also feeling kinda smacked down and don’t really feel like tempting fate any further at this point, because I’ve done so for over a year now and it doesn’t look like I’m winning.

So once again I prove you can’t argue with fate and if you’re sitting here with a busted foot it’s not going away.  Just like labor and delivery, once that baby starts it’s not stopping so you can fight it as much as you want or you can try to shut up and take what comes.  I’m not so good at that but at least it looks like I’m going to get a chance to practice, right?

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