Limping toward Boston

Astute readers will notice that I’ve adjusted the title to reflect my status after last week’s blogging injury.

My foot is slightly less swollen – but considerably more colorful – than it was in the photo that accompanied the earlier post. The right side sports reddish-purple streaks against an indigo backdrop; the left side is violet-blue; and the top, around my toes, is just starting to take on a shadowy, twilit cast.

No pictures (you’re welcome), but an update on the past week follows.

Thursday – Did not leave apartment. Rested, iced, elevated and felt alternately sorry for and angry at myself. (First stage of injury: self-pity mixed with rage.) Did not see the doctor, despite Eric, my mother-in-law and numerous other people urging me to do so. On a positive note, I reached the halfway point in the almost-900 page novel I’d begun reading a day or two before my injury.

Friday – More rest, more ice, more elevation, more reading. Considered walking to the running store to pick up my number for a Sunday 10K that I’d planned to incorporate into a 16-mile long run. Made it to the end of our block before turning around, reassuring myself that I could always pick up my number on race day, and since I probably wouldn’t be running more than 10-12 miles, I didn’t really need any energy gels, either. (Second stage of injury: denial.)

Saturday – Did not leave apartment. Finished reading 2666 (and by the way, can I say this about Roberto Bolaño? first he ensnares you with his post-modern wiles, writing about writing, and then he takes you to Mexico and breaks your goddamn heart). Had a friend over for a lovely dinner before sinking back into my funk. (Third stage of injury: sorrow.)

Sunday – Slept right through the start time for the race I’d planned to run, limping out to brunch with Eric instead. Read most of the Sunday New York Times and felt accomplished. (Fourth stage of injury: lassitude.)

Monday – Did not leave apartment. Thought about calling the doctor, but didn’t. Instead, devoted the day to our planned post-NYC Marathon vacation by booking flights to Ecuador, reading dozens of hotel reviews, researching transportation between Quito and other destinations and creating an itinerary in Word table format. (Fifth stage of injury: distraction.)

Tuesday (today) – Began investigating February marathons, just in case (sixth stage of injury: bargaining), before calling the doctor to see if he could take a look. Told to come on down, I did – only to be advised there’d be a wait of well over an hour and while it was up to me, I might be better off coming back first thing tomorrow morning. I left.

But, but, but . . . on my way to the doctor’s office, I noticed that walking was becoming easier as I went along. Afterwards, instead of heading directly home, I continued up to 7th Ave to run an errand. My step wasn’t quite as quick, and certainly not as springy, as it would normally be – but it was a step.

So, maybe, there’s a glimmer of hope.

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2 thoughts on “Limping toward Boston

  1. When I trained for Chicago 2012, an injury sidelined me for a good month+ of training in the middle of the summer. I lost a lot of endurance, but I recovered early enough to run the marathon pain-free, and since I hadn’t run one in years, I ran a 22-min PR. I was (am) admittedly grumpy about the (still-standing) PR not being my full potential, but I think you’re in much better shape now than I was then, so don’t give up hope! There’s still so much time between now and NYCM.

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    • Thanks for the kind words! I’m not freaking out too much about losing this past week – it makes me grumpy, sure, but I’m (just barely) rational enough to know it’s not a disaster. But I do get nervous when I look at the calendar and see how close we are to September, which is supposed to be my monster month.

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