Or does it?  I never really thought that story made sense.  Yes, in the end, the tortoise wins the race against the hare, but honestly that was the hare’s fault.  The hare took a freaking nap!  Let’s be honest here, if the hare hadn’t been a cocky jerk who was so dismissive of his competition that he literally slept through most of the event, he would have won.  Can anyone argue otherwise?  Not really.  I mean, if I go to a 5k and run slowly and steadily, will I win or even get on the podium? No.  So how in the heck can slow and steady win a race?  It can’t.  Or so I thought.

We’ve been doing renovations around the house, and I decided I wanted to display my medals in a different way.  When I began to take them down, I noticed how many there were in 2017 as compared to 2018.  In 2017 I did a ton of events.  I finally did a 5k in 30 minutes and tried all kinds of new things.  I posted like crazy on Instagram and was having a blast.  I felt like that streak would never end, and yet I look at my medals and there’s a fraction of them in 2018.  I had my challenges last year, it felt like every time I turned a corner, something else came up.  I’m pretty happy with my acceptance of those things and trying to be a positive as I could be, but at the same time I did let it get to me to a certain extent.  Part of me was looking forward to starting over in things like running, but that part of me was a little assuming.  I thought that it would all come back to me in this glorious wave and I would be running 5k’s in under 30 minutes in no time.  I’d jump on the bike and well, it would be just like riding a bike… that’s another saying that doesn’t really work well for me since I feel like a wobbly fool when I haven’t ridden in a while, but I digress. 

I was given a big dose of reality when those things didn’t come to me quickly.  It was a bit disheartening and left me wondering if I even wanted to start over.  When I started, I hated running, then learned to love It, and then hated it again.  Did I really want to go through all that again?  Cycling, I was ok with in a way.  I was enjoying the mountain bike trails.  It was something totally new and a way train that wasn’t tri specific really.  Did I want to bother with all those swims that make me want to cry?  All those hours early in the morning on the trainer while everyone slept?  That’s what I was going through once I got clearance to train again.  It was an uphill battle that I wasn’t really 100% sure I wanted to fight.

I decided that since I was undecided, I would do what was scheduled on my training plan and see what happened.  I was phoning in my workouts.  Yes, I got up, and I got them done, but I was not “present” during them.  I didn’t care what my time was, how many miles I did or even wear my heart rate monitor.  I just didn’t really care other than at least doing something.  Every time, I repeated to myself that I am grateful for at the very least, the ability to do this.  I didn’t post on social medial, because quite frankly it felt like nothing worth posting.  Looking back, I wish I had posted.  I wish I posted those mornings where I ran and didn’t feel any better than I had when I rolled out of bed.  I wish I had posted that I had a bike ride that sucked.  That was my reality and I don’t think we see enough of that on social media.  All I see is people doing epic stuff, beating yesterday, and all the other popular hashtags out there. 

Then something happened.

Throughout all of my time off for surgery, broken foot and just not “feeling it,” my coach has been understanding.  He told me to ease back into it and he was sure it would come again.  He scheduled my training accordingly.  In November, just after our vacation, I checked Training Peaks to see what next week’s schedule was.  I kind of chuckled.  Darin asked what happened and I said “oh, coach loaded someone else’s plan into my calendar by mistake.”  I texted my coach and the “conversation” went something like this… Me: Hey Coach, I think you loaded the wrong plan in my calendar next week. Coach: What makes you say that? Me: Well, it’s a lot more than I have been doing, no days off and really big swims. Coach: Yeah…. and those swims are not that big. Me: <after a long pause wondering if he was serious> Ok, I will give it a try…

I was kind of in shock.  Doesn’t he realize that I have been struggling?  Doesn’t he see that I am barely making it now?  I make comments in every workout about how I felt, “zombie” and “phoned in” were used quite often.  I soon realized exactly what he was up to.  I could not phone it in on some of these.  He was pushing me, and I needed it.  He had something on the calendar for me every single day.  Some could be as small as a 15 minute run.  A 15 minute run seemed like a waste looking at it on the computer, but the more I got outside and ran, the more the habit took.  I had gone consistently for 20+ days straight before I got sick on Christmas even and took two days off of training.  Those two days sucked.  Not just because I was sick, but I actually missed training!  I wasn’t completely well after those two days, but I wanted to run, so I did.  Could it be?  Am I falling in love with this again?  The answer was yes, and so far it’s even better the second time around! 

What changed?  This time, I had no expectations, and therefore couldn’t be disappointed.  I couldn’t beat myself up over the data because I didn’t even bother looking at it.  All I wanted to see was green on my calendar.  All I wanted, was to complete the workout, regardless of the outcome.  Little by little, I started progressing.  Don’t mistake not having expectations for not having goals.  I want to get back to doing my 5k in under 30.  I want to successfully do a swim in a triathlon.  I want to go fast on the bike without feeling terrified.  I want to keep eating healthier.  I want to be stronger.  I want to be fit and fast like the hare, but not have the expectation that I will win just because of that and take it for granted ever again.  The difference is, I’m focusing on doing the steps to get to the goal, rather than the goal itself.  I don’t care, in the best way!  I hope I can hold onto that.  If I do, if I make these small incremental changes and I am successful, then slow and steady will have won this race in the end.

Sometimes after a fresh start, the light changes and you have to stop.  That’s what I felt like the other day.  Literally a couple of hours after I wrote that last post, I found out that I would not be running for at least 4-8 weeks.  Why?  Well, I have a broken bone in my foot.  Yeah, I was just as surprised as you are, but I guess I should not have been, given the pain was pretty bad here and there.  I think I just had too much going on to really pay attention to it.

Months ago, I had foot pain.  Since I have my Google Doctorate and can self diagnose like a boss, I chalked it up to something called sesamoiditis.  There are these small bones in your feet called sesamoid bones and sometimes the area around them gets angry and inflamed because of overuse.  I iced, I rolled I did warm foot baths, etc.  It seemed to help, which matched up pretty good to the symptoms and treatments.  I knew I would be resting for a few weeks after surgery, so I figured I’d be killing two birds with one stone.

When I started back to full training, the first day was an intense one hour strength session.  While doing my 60 walking lunges, my foot hurt again.  Dang, I thought.  Maybe I should have stretched it better or warmed up more.  When it came to do single leg calf raises, I had to stop and rest every 5 because the pain came back.  In hindsight, of course, I should have stopped completely, but hey in the moment, I was trying to be a badass!

The next day it ached and ached, but didn’t actually hurt when I was on the bike trainer.  I rubbed it out and told Darin I needed to get it checked.  It really hurt but I was so excited to be back to training that I think I kind of tried to ignore it.  When I went for my short run, there was a dull ache but I think I was so focused on making sure my boob didn’t feel weird or ache, that I didn’t give the foot too much thought.  The following strength day, it hurt again.  It was always when I pushed the big toe up, like in a lunge or whatever.  At work that day, I searched for a local walk in center that had x-ray capabilities and told myself I would go over the weekend.

Weekend came and went and while my foot ached and I complained about it, I didn’t go.  Looking back, I think I knew it was worse than I had hoped.  Monday was strength again, and I could not do my lunges properly.  I had to twist my knee in so that the brunt of the weight was on my smaller toes and the ball of my foot just was not having it.  When it came to calf raises, I foolishly did most of them and then stopped because the pain was too much.  I knew I needed to go in, so I left work and headed over to the local urgent care center.  The nurse took all my info and blood pressure, which she said was a bit high at the moment.  I knew why.  The same thing happened when I went to see the surgeon for the first time.  My nerves had me, I knew it was not going to be the news I wanted but just didn’t know what it would be.  I spoke to the doctor, who ordered x-rays and I waited on pins and needles for her to come back into the room once we were done.

She came in and started with a question.  “How long ago did you say you noticed the pain?”  My response was a month or more, but it seemed to subside.  She took me over to view the x-ray with her.  She showed me the sesamoid bones, one of which was cracked open pretty good.  She pointed out that it had began to heal, so it had been a while.  I explained that I rested it after surgery and that seemed to make sense to her.  Her next words were “I know you don’t want to hear this, but you can’t run for a while.”  What’s a while?  Somewhere around 4 to 8 weeks depending on how it heals and how good I am about wearing a restrictive shoe or boot during that time.  In my mind I was like my kid when I take away video games.  I was desperate for something.  I needed to think quick, yeah, negotiate something,  “I have a question,” I said.  “When I ride my bike on the trainer, it doesn’t hurt at all.  Can I keep doing that?”  Her response was something along the lines of “you desperate fool!”  Just kidding, she was kind, but I think that’s what she wanted to say.  She said she certainly could not recommend that, but I could talk to a podiatrist if I wanted to.  She said that she has seen others with similar issues, and that there is a pad that can be placed under the foot that takes the pressure off that particular bone and if worn with a very stiff soled shoe, it could be ok to do certain things.  She threw me a bone, and I loved her for it.  She told me the pads were available on Amazon and even printed a picture out for me.  She gave me a prescription for a strong anti-inflammatory and a boot, and sent me on my way.

I headed home and was trying to digest things.  I’m not going to lie, I had a split second of watery eyes when I was telling Darin what happened, but I was quick to also inform him that I genuinely was ok.  Did you know that you cannot find a walking boot locally?  Amazon it is.   I called Darin over when I was looking for the right one.  I only needed the basic most ugly clunker out there, but there was a pretty sharp storm trooper looking one for a couple bucks more.  Heck, if I am wearing it for a month or two, may as well like it.

It seemed surprising to the doctor that I could not recall when I actually broke it.  She said that it was likely a small fracture that at some point I ran too hard on or did something to push it over the edge and have it split if I could not recall a trauma to it.  Darin and I started to try to think about when I first felt the foot pain.  It was so weird because I remember feeling it for a while but never in a million years would I have thought it was a break or even a hairline fracture.  The pain got bad only at a couple of points, otherwise it was very tolerable.  I went back over my training notes and the morning after a long run in January, I told my coach that I stepped out of bed and my foot really hurt.  I assumed it was a cramp or tightness and rubbed it out and did my bike workout.  It was fine on the bike but ached some after.  I iced it, rolled it and stayed off it a day or so and it seemed ok.  There was always a dull ache, but nothing to be concerned about.  That’s also right when I got the word that I needed to start having all these breast cancer screens and tests.  I think I just focused on the bigger demon and let the little one lie.  My best guess is that I probably had a hairline fracture at that time.

About a week before we did the Star Wars runs, Darin and I went on a training run together.  My notes say that about a mile into the run, I felt a really sharp pain and had to stop a second.  He and I instantly remembered.  I landed funky on a bad sidewalk and made one of those gasps right away.  I am pretty sure that’s what did it.  That was the straw that broke the sesamoid’s back.  (That’s the saying, right?)  That is my best guess as to when it finally split.  I rested it after that, knowing we had the event the next weekend.  I am kind of glad I didn’t know then, what I know now.  I ran a 10k and a half marathon the weekend after it happened.  Had I known, I would have been told not to run and experiencing that with D2 made me so happy!  Yeah, it probably wasn’t good for my foot, but with everything going on, it was good for my spirit!

Over the past several months, I have learned a lot and am still learning.  I am learning to control the things I can, and react the best possible way to the things I can’t control.  There’s a quote by Marcus Aurelius that says “Choose not to be harmed—and you won’t feel harmed. Don’t feel harmed—and you haven’t been.”   I try to think of that now whenever I react to something.  The word “harmed” is interchangeable with so many things, sad, mad, frustrated, etc.  The first  thought in my head when she said it was broken was, “really?, Could anything else go wrong?” and then I realized….. YES, a lot more could go wrong!   So, I choose not to be bummed or feel sorry for myself.  I choose to love my fate, and do my best to learn from the struggles it presents me.  I cant’ run for 4-8 weeks and I have to wear a boot.  There are so many people out there that have so much more to overcome.  I still have my health, there are so many things I can still do, even with a boot!